It's a Bumpy Ride, Reining in the Wild
by NancyBoy.87
Summary: A fanciful tale of Time Boy meets Earth Girl as they play across time and dance between the stars. (If you're still pining over the loss of 11 and are a Whoufflé fan, enjoy some therapy.)
1. The Queen of Kep

**I'm really, very sorry to ramble, but bear with me just a sec...**

**I'm a little reluctant to upload this once again. It's become a bit of a bane. I began writing and uploading it over a year ago, but then deleted it to edit the bits I didn't like or to add some things I thought of after publishing, and then completely removed it earlier this year due to suffering with depression and I couldn't be bothered with it anymore. I have such OCD over my writing anyway, I'm just too fussy, or a perfectionist you could say, but especially over something people are going to actually read and possibly comment on (because I write only for myself usually) - because of this issue, I never let people read my stuff unless it's anonymous, like on here. I had a fair amount of reviews before, which were all positive so I don't know what I was worried about, but from now on I'll just have to be confident about the whole thing. Although, me being insecure, apologies in advance for its awfulness in various places, lack of imagination basically, but there should be enough of a decent story to interest some.**** I'm no writer, by any means, I just love Doctor Who, I completely adored the chemistry between Clara and 11, I love to write as a hobby, and simply had ideas for a story about them so whatever came to mind that I liked, I let flow and jotted down. Don't take my attempt too seriously; it's just a fanfic!**

**Anyway! To summarise, but not give too much away, 'It's a Bumpy Ride, Reining in the Wild' is written as a romantic adventure mainly, but there is a lot more to it to give it some depth and individuality from other fanfics I've read. The Doctor and Clara have clearly always had a strong connection ever since she was 'Oswin', and in my story they get into all kinds of antics as they try to figure their place in each other's lives. Along the way, Clara finds how difficult life with a Time Lord can be.**

**'Reining in the Wild' will begin with a 'T' rating due to subject matters in this chapter, and will move into an 'M' rating as the story unfolds. To coincide with the rules of this site, I'll be taming my later chapters down a lot, so nothing will be too explicit. Whoever may want to avoid those mature parts, there'll be enough warning. Additional genres throughout: Humour (I try...), Drama, Angst, Suspense, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Tragedy, Family, Hurt/Comfort, and Friendship.**

**Pronunciations in this chapter: ****'Hiujin' - 'Hi-oo-gin'. ****'Equos' - 'eck-oss'.**

**Oh, also do beware that I like to invent alien races with no intention of using them twice, kinda like the show itself. It's just fun to.**

**Obvious disclaimer: I never have and never will own Doctor Who, sadly. Although, that would be very cool.**

* * *

**One**

Head deep into a summer's sky, way above the clouds passing along their unique journey, and past the planets orbiting our great sun, you're sure to find a small blue box waiting for you. Well, they all believed it was small. _"It's bigger on the inside!"_ each would announce with their first step aboard, as though the pilot hadn't noticed the vastness before.

Except one. The girl with soft curls in her hair and that stubborn, cockney attitude she carried, letting nothing stand in her way, not even some handsome stranger. She had the words on the tip of her tongue, but a quick skip around the box assured her, _"It's smaller on the outside." _With a key pressed into her palm, a promise to keep her safe forever, tragedy unfolded. He still asked her to come away with him as she lay on her deathbed. How could she ever refuse?

Losing her once, that was nearly enough. But losing her twice? He was intrigued. However long it took, he'd discover her secret. He'd fashion a plan to have her fall into his life a third time. She had quite the knack of doing so before. So when the ringing had stopped, the robe was off, the bowtie straightened in defiance it was ever going to be removed again, and no sooner had her coat found its peg, she was aboard the _'smaller on the outside'_ blue box, and set in his hearts.

She was home.

* * *

When they'd first arrived, they were presented with a crudely decorated room. Though a few modern touches made it a little more comfortable, and besides the plain white stone walls and the simple brown tiling floor being their only view, there was a single bed to the right of the room with a small wooden chair next to it. A mirror hung on the wall above a basin, and a couple of tiny windows either side of the door, which, the Doctor soon discovered, had been securely locked along with their wooden neighbour, allowed a little light to shine through from the main corridor as evening drew in.

The Doctor didn't mean to land on this planet, and he cursed the TARDIS under his breath a dozen or more times for bringing them there. But Clara, being 'the boss', said she wanted a quick look around. And, of course, the Time Lord caved in when she fluttered those pretty eyes and smiled her sweetest smile. He'd heard about Kep, maintained a satisfactory distance from it, but the ship gave readings that everything was ideal, calm, and safe when they landed. And like the big kids they were, grabbed a hold of the other's hand, leading themselves from the old girl's safety.

Initial screaming from the pair had died down, that was until the Doctor began shouting at anyone who'd listen. He'd even punched the door and tried to break a window with a jug sat by the basin, but begging and eventual defeat overcame his unusual bout of violence.

The resident leaders of Kep took a shine to young Clara due to her uncanny resemblance to their late Princess Loah. They'd tried to spoil her with lavish gifts, and the Doctor wasn't at all comfortable with her being eyed by the several eligible princes, who he'd desperately tried to tear her away from before any could pounce. The choosing of a husband here was down to the princes themselves, the brutality of which the Doctor hadn't explained in full to Clara, hopefully getting them back to Earth before she'd have to find out.

As the alien and his companion had tried to leave, apologising for the mix-up in their arrival, they were stopped by large guards wearing very little, and ushered into this room. They weren't given a chance to explain a thing. The TARDIS and sonic screwdriver were seized as trickery and weapons. There seemed no hope.

During the night, three hours ticked over to four, four flew at a snail's pace into five, and the Doctor's patience was running thin… thinner than the silky, gold nightdress his companion was wearing, that, every so often, he couldn't take his eyes away from. The way it hugged her body in just the right places, falling beautifully in others.

After knocking on the front door, he waited outside the Maitland's house that morning with a fresh pint of milk, the latest newspaper and the most enthusiastic grin on his face, ready for another Wednesday adventure. He hadn't really thought to let her change once she'd answered, and a vague memory of Amy's first adventure with him swam through his mind. But Clara's hair was a wonderfully ruffled mess, her feet tucked snug into her purple pump slippers, and she wore a sweet, sleepy smile that melted his hearts. She looked perfect.

He shuddered to remove the lustful images his mind instantly produced, peering back through the tiny window in-front of him.

Half an hour had passed since she'd awoke, finding him sat up on the bed beside her, watching her almost dreamily, and they quickly murmured their awkward salutations. Clara's hands pulled at the hem of her nightdress, having ridden up during her slumber, trying to ignore the slightly flustered Doctor beside her, and soon gave in to the urge to pace for a while, before settling on the chair.

Because the silence was unnerving her, she had to get a conversation out of him, talking nonsense at first. How warm the planet was. How comfy the bed felt. He offered her a glass of water but she declined, knowing there were no toilets present. He didn't know what to do or what to say, so he mostly stayed quiet.

"But you have a plan to get me home, right?" She asked, trying to snap him from a daze of contemplation. The terror was evident in her freshly glistening eyes. "You've barely said a word since I woke up," she added, and received an apologetic glance. "You might want to give me some hope."

"I'm sorry Clara." And he couldn't have been sorrier, lying on the bed opposite her, puzzling and prodding over something in his clever brain, but it always came to the same result: it would never work. He watched as tears blurred her view, showing she was begging him to protect her, and it tore him in two. Sitting up, the Doctor took her into his arms. "If I knew where they had the TARDIS and my sonic, we'd be long gone by now."

"As long as they don't take you too."

"I'll find a way, I promise - I can't lose you." Laying a kiss in her hair, he mumbled something that even in that close proximity it could barely be made out.

"What did you say?" Clara's big, brown eyes gazed up at him.

He watched her for a moment; such a young thing looked back at him. He held her cheek, ran his thumb over her temple, and told her, "I don't want you marrying one of them."

"I'm not exactly thrilled abou-"

Stopping her mid-sentence, he took a risk, and leant down to kiss her. It only lasted a matter of seconds, before he realised what he was doing. "Um… that wasn't- I didn't mean that."

"Doctor?" There was so much in that single breath of his name.

But the Time Lord was stumped for words; there's always a first time for such an event, though while he thought it over, he knew that wasn't the first time they'd done _that_, at least for him. Even then he'd had more to say about it, and all he could really say was, "I'm sorry."

His furrowed brow clearly troubled her, and she was just as confused. He'd never done that before. She didn't know if she was moved or unnerved by the action, but he wasn't the kind to play games and mess with people's emotions, especially those he cared about. That was a genuine, heartfelt kiss he'd openly offered and shared with her. She, nonetheless, dismissed it as anything but a spur of the moment thing. There must have been an explanation - he didn't do a thing without reason.

"You don't need to apologise. It was just a peck… just a little, friendly peck." Clara knew he wasn't buying that. She wasn't even buying that - she was fairly sure friend's didn't 'peck' for going on a few seconds longer than necessary, but he eased up further onto the bed, leaving her at the edge. He didn't seem to want to be near her now, and she told herself to have a talk with him about it later, if later ever came…

* * *

"She's my, uh… my sidekick!" The Doctor told the court.

Clara jabbed an elbow in his ribs. "Sidekick?! I'm not your Muttley!"

He turned to her, holding the elbow that poked him, and whispered in her ear. "I can't tell them you're my companion; that word means so much more here, and with them wishing to cart you off to get married, if I'm seen as a threat to their kingdom, if I'm seen as your companion, your partner, your husband, stopping you from becoming their queen, they're sure to kill me to get to you!" The Time Lord rushed to explain. "As my sidekick or friend, I'm no threat to them - and you need me alive!"

"Oh… okay, fine. Sidekick it is. Sure felt like I was your _companion_ earlier…" She mumbled under her breath, shrugging off his grip.

"Shut up!"

"When you're quite finished, Mr Smith," a deep bellow echoed around the large courtroom, startling them. "We would like to proceed."

The pair stood in-front of the High Court of Kep. The bellow belonged to a Lord, the uncle of the late Princess Loah. He wore a deep orange, almost golden, robe with red and brown details to show his status. His tuft of hair atop his pale olive-skinned head was dark dusky sage, and his eyes a rich yellow. The males possessed a pair of very short antlers atop their skulls that the females didn't, to finish off their striking, intimidating look.

"Now, Mr and Mrs Smith, why are-" The Lord began.

"Oswald." The Doctor interrupted.

"Sorry?"

"Her name is Oswald; _Miss_ Oswald. We're definitely _not_ married!" He stepped aside, parting himself from her, who gave him a glare, and noticed the several bulky, frustrated princes stalking the perimeter of the courtroom, eying her up again.

"Very well - Mr Smith, Miss Oswald, what exactly are you doing on our planet? If you claim you're from another then please enlighten us."

The impressively fringed alien blew out a sigh and laughed a nervous, hearty laugh. "About that, Lord…?"

"Usko"

"Lord Usko - we are indeed from another planet. And Kep is not under threat; I can assure you, sir!" The Doctor made it very clear. "You took our only means of returning home. That box is my spaceship, and that device is not a weapon, it's just handy for getting me out of trouble - I guess that's why I'm still here!" He let another laugh expel from his lungs through his anxious ramblings.

The brunette stood glaring at the madman beside her. "You could have shown them your psychic paper, chin-boy."

"It's in my other coat, okay?!" He barked, quietly. "I have to do laundry sometimes! Do you all think I just live in one suit with a plethora of bowties?"

She quirked her brow, giving him a lazy onceover, before meeting his eyes again. "Pretty much."

A slight cough came from in-front of them. "If I have to interrupt once more, I'll have you thrown back in jail - separately. Your choice, Mr Smith."

The Doctor gulped and regained his conscious to his surroundings. "My sidekick, my friend…" He glanced at her and smiled. "Is from Earth, and we've-"

The Lord shook his head in disbelief, "Earth, you say?"

"Yes, Lord Usko," Clara spoke up.

"Can't say I've ever heard of it - how can we believe this is a real planet? How do we know you're not spies from the lowlands? You seem to know our language like a native." And the lord furrowed his bushy brows of dusty green-grey, folding his wrinkled fingers upon his lap.

The Doctor looked to Clara again and she to him, panicked about how to prove themselves.

"TARDIS translation circuit?" She whispered.

"I'm afraid so," the Time Lord replied. His eyes were wide like an owl's, like any other time he felt a moment's fear.

"Oh my stars," Clara gulped, staring at the clear blue sky above.

"And me without my psychic paper - damn it!" He scolded himself, and looked back in time to notice the Lord standing up and raise a hand towards the guards. "Ah… no; please stop! Don't!"

Two heavy-handed men grabbed the Doctor's arms and lifted him up. He found nothing but terror in his companion's eyes, being lifted by another guard over his shoulder, and taken in the opposite direction. The Doctor yelled in despair, "Where are you taking her?! TELL ME!"

Usko grinned, "To her wedding, of course."

"LET ME GO!" Clara screamed, flinging her feet to kick the muscular torso in their way, and her fists flew in fury to thump the back of the brute carrying her, but it didn't deter him.

"I'll find you! I'll find you…" The Doctor allowed himself to be dragged away, out of the courtroom, watching the young brunette disappear through the mass of guards.

* * *

The heat was reaching punishing levels, yet that had no effect on the beastly princes as they fought in-front of Clara. She was forced to watch them battle it out for her hand, and managed to close her eyes from the sight of blood being spilled, but the sound of bones snapping like twigs under feet in a forest in spring caused her stomach to flip. Being exposed to such a stinging alien sun wasn't helping matters.

Gruff grunts from within the sandy pit merged with the cheers of the spectators. Blood sports - Clara cringed at the Grand National when a horse and its jockey would take a tumble, but this was to the extreme. Oh, the idea of an ancient Greek Olympics, with all their muscly men, left her teeming with hormones like most other women, but in this situation, it was a bit too close for comfort.

"How do you like your suitors?" Lord Usko's snide grin sent a shiver of disgust down her spine.

"How about, I don't?!" She snapped, receiving only a light, belittling chuckle response. Her limbs were bound to the throne next to the Lord's, as she'd tried to run off the first time she was seated. The ropes were so tight around her wrists that she could feel her fingers tingling with the onset of pins and needles. That was torture enough.

"Your friend had every chance to prevent this from happening, but he likes to talk a lot… doesn't he?"

"Whatever you think I'll be doing with one of those _monsters_, you can forget it!"

"We don't have a monarch, Miss Oswald."

"Yes, and I'm very sorry about that!" She wasn't. "But I'm not going to be forced into marriage! I'm not even your species; surely there're laws against it?"

"We have to make do when… necessary…" The Lord seemed hesitant to continue.

Clara paused in her next aggressive outburst to take in what he'd said. "So, this is illegal? I'm not the first, am I?"

Giving up his façade to reason with the young human he didn't really want to bind and torture, he explained, "Yes, this is legal." His palm came to rest by his slight stubble upon is chin, settling his elbow to the arm of his throne. "And no… you're not the first. Our laws give us rights over any and all who visit our planet's city."

"You said you didn't believe where we came from."

"True, but while you look very much like my late niece, as heart-breaking as that is for me, your skin, your hair, even your scent… I knew you weren't of our world. The Hiujin wizards from the lowlands, they've practised dark magic for hundreds of years. They could quite easily transform a couple of their own, mask their identities to try to overthrow the crown."

"Has that happened before?"

"Once or- hmm, why am I telling you all of this?" Usko shifted from his relaxed position in exposing details of their defeats to a stranger.

"I asked politely - with my friend, he tends to blurt a lot out when I ask politely."

A chuckle was shared between them, momentarily. Clara could tell the Lord wasn't malicious, wasn't intending to harm her, but like any society, there were rules that had to be followed whether they liked it or not.

"I may be a lord, but I have authority above me. I'm afraid, I can't let you go."

And she began to hate him again. "But I don't belong here!"

"You do now."

Just as the Doctor would do when she panicked, Usko laid a comforting hand to Clara's hair. She flinched away, shaking her head to release his touch, but he was persistent. Giving her a soft smile, he looked away, removing his hand to weave his fingers across his lap.

Glaring at him, the young human snarled. "My friend will rescue me, and when he does-"

"Is that the beginnings of a threat? Because I don't want to have to throw you into one of our dank little cells."

Clara breathed deeply through her nostrils, keeping her lips pressed firmly together in her rage. Her voice levelled to a calm tone to reply, despite this. "I'd sooner rot in that cell than marry one of-" Turning to face the dusty, sweaty, blood-stained flesh. "_Them._" She gulped, finding the victory had been taken.

The cheer from the stands was not only for the man who'd won, but for the queen-to-be. Lord Usko rose to his feet, congratulating the brave young prince whose heaving chest brought in breath after rugged breath. Clara began to shake with fear as the prince made his way over to her, stepping before her feet to bow down and take rest upon his knee. In doing so, he showed a form of courting submission and asked for acceptance, as well as her hand.

The moment stopped in Clara's mind, and all around her was a blur. She wanted the Doctor, she wanted her sweet, clumsy, loveable chin-boy to come and save her. Her eyes closed. He was there, in every deep thought. She'd memorised his twinkling hazel eyes, his affectionate smile, the softness of his hand holding hers, she could hear his voice saying her name and telling her of the wonders in the universe he'd yet to show her.

And she had no idea he was watching the whole time, hidden in the shadows…

* * *

"Clara, I'm so, so sorry." His whisper carried no further than his own lips.

Helpless, the alien held the bars of his cell, letting a tear run from lashes and fall against the metal his face was pressed up at, keeping as quiet as promised. He couldn't do a thing but watch on as the fight played out, but he was ignoring it as best he could to gaze upon Clara. Missing her giggles and hugs, even the frequent punches to the shoulder, the scowl she'd put on making her come across adorably menacing - he'd always admit it unnerved him when she would, just leaving out the part he found it endearing.

Remarkably, he'd not corrupted this one, as of yet. But watching her slip away from him, he had to see it unfold instead of interfere, and knew she was losing the will to resist. He'd soon corrupt her too, indirectly, unintentionally bringing her to her premature future as a bride, a wife - a queen.

The Doctor wasn't jealous. He could never be of such disgusting princes and people, allowing this to happen, regardless of understanding their difference in morals. Though he knew of Clara's time, of how a thing of that nature was still present in some cultures. However much it was present on Earth, it was not the way Clara lived her life. Arranged marriages were things she'd never have to worry about.

And then he wondered; he cared about her. He cared about all of his friends. He cared about Earth and its occupants. He cared about everyone, anyone, no matter their race or specie. But that still wasn't it; he's been willing to help his enemies as well, so if it wasn't jealousy and it wasn't simply care, what was it?

It'd troubled him for a while, possibly since he'd first met Oswin. This pleasant niggling confusion inside whenever she smiled at him as he'd greet her at the front door, or the way she'd say goodnight when he'd return her home. He loved the tiny human as a friend to have fun with, as a companion in his travels, as his Clara.

_His Clara_.

He smiled at the notion, whispering on an exhale, "My Clara."

That was it. The realisation hit him, and he shook in his boots.

"Oh dear," the alien mumbled a little too loudly.

A guard outside looked to him. "You're unauthorised to speak - cease."

The Time Lord simply nodded and held his hands up in surrender. And back to his mind he wandered, dropping to his rear to get comfortable, or as comfortable as one could on a concrete bed. If he didn't escape and get to her before dawn, he'd never forgive himself.

After a mentally debilitating row with himself, he came to a conclusion that would either harm him or help him in finding out who she really was. She could up and leave the ship forever if he told her, if he ever told her. He hated that prospect, and glanced to her through the bars again, only finding she'd vanished from her throne.

* * *

Forcing herself to pace so she didn't have to sit in the dark and dingy cell, Clara quietly sobbed into her hands. She thought her cage was _'barely fit for a dog'_, and only a little light shone through the metal gate at the end, but even that was shaded by the canopy around the jail entrance, a few cells along.

"You're going to have blisters if you carry on pacing," a friendly voice caught Clara's attention.

"Who- who's there?"

The soft voice spoke again, getting closer along the corridor. "My name is Equos."

Clara snivelled a little less, wiping her eyes as the beautiful olive-skinned humanoid came into hazy view through her tears. In their hands laid a platter of odd items she assumed were foods. Equos's glossy, golden brown hair flowed over their shoulders and cupped their face slightly.

A delicate, weepy, "Hi", was all she could finally manage.

"Don't mind the guards here. They're a forceful bunch but have no rights over who does what unless the royals give command." The humanoid smiled, making sure the guards heard. Equos glanced over each shoulder to make sure no-one was listening in to what they continued in a desperate whisper. They came closer to the bars, beckoning Clara with a flick of their hand. "I've come to help you and your mate escape - I know where he's being held!"

"No, he's not my-" Clara began to protest that she and the Doctor were _not_ an item, as she realised what else the charming creature had said. "What? Where is he?"

* * *

******Agh! Apprehension! ****Please be kind! Follow, favourite and review if you so wish! All appreciated! I like exclamations!**

**I know I made the Doctor seem quite pathetic here, and also as though he's some kind of pervert, but I have no explanation for either so... yea. I don't think he's either, by the way, it just seemed to fit.**


	2. Rescue me Chin-Boy

**Thank you if you're still here! Please enjoy, or at least tolerate it lol. :)**

**Additional pronunciations: 'Néyuut' - 'nay-oot'.**

* * *

**Two**

Word travelled fast that visitors had arrived in a mysterious blue box. Their clothing, hair and colouration intrigued every citizen that happened to witness them strolling through the markets as though they owned the place. A young Guardian of Equine heard of the couple, catching a glimpse when they were seized, and saw a bond between them in the depths of their hearts, that was clear they'd not recognised, and young Equos couldn't let the thought of them being separated go.

That following evening…

_"I need to save the young female. She's about to be crowned queen!"_

_"Nonsense child, it's nothing to us what the kepiant do." Darrin, her father, replied, disinterested._

_"I'm almost certain that I heard she's human. She's not from our world." Equos stumbled through her words, begging for understanding with a hand at her father's nearest wrist._

_Darrin, releasing the hold of his child's tender grip, brought a ridiculing smile to his withered face. "My dear, there are no such things as humans."_

_As though everything she said was a lie, the accusation tore a wound in the young guardian's compassionate heart. "What I say is true, father! I saw them captured with my own two eyes!" Her voice cracked in anguish, and with a stern look from the elder, remembered her place. She took a small step back, bowing her head in silence. Equos refused to dare a glance above them, as speaking out of turn was punishable enough, without giving in to making eye contact with your elders as you do so._

_Darrin cocked a brow; he wasn't used to his daughter behaving so irrationally. Their kind was so peaceful, so genteel. Nonetheless, he was beginning to lose his own patience. With a clap of his palms in frustration to his balding head, Darrin turned his back to face his equine, taking hold of its bridal. "Now, that's quite enough, Equos. I raised you better than this - don't fill your head with the silliness of an infant."_

_"Whoever they are, father, I will do all I can to help them."_

_Giving another stern look to their child, Darrin firmly instructed, "You'll do no such thing. Here, take the trail back to the village - I've a few errands before dusk."_

_Equos shifted on her feet, and grabbed the reins being shoved into her hand. As soon as she'd climbed upon the equine's back, it shot off across the wooded landscape._

_'He's not going to dictate my desire to help those in need. I have my own mind and I'm damned if I'm leaving the innocent female to endure that kind of fate.' Equos thought to themselves, and yanked the reins to the opposite direction, heading back to the town walls._

* * *

Having found Equos had hidden sedation darts between the items of food on the platter, to stun any few difficult guards with, the pair headed for the main gates of the jail Clara had been held in. She thought they'd come in handy, but there were only three, and this place was enormous - they were sure to run out very quickly.

The cells they passed housed frail, withered looking girls within, barely an age, and their souls as empty as their eyes. No sparkle, no life, no passion. Just hollowed out and waiting to be used and abused once again. Their skins were sore with whip scars, leading Clara to believe they hadn't seen home in such a long time. She blinked back the tears and held her gaze to the path ahead, knowing there was nothing else she could do. But as they reached the gates, she stopped, resting a hand on Equos's arm.

_"We don't walk away,"_ Clara remembered the words of the Doctor. "Can we not help them?" She hoped there could be some way.

But her rescuer lowered their head, regretful in their reply. "I have tried, and I have failed."

"Then try again. It'll be easier with a helping hand." Clara softly squeezed the arm she held, offering a small, encouraging smile.

Equos tried to repay that smile, but simply couldn't. She glanced over her shoulder to the girls, seeing the distance pain set in each of their eyes, the accepted defeat that had probably been there since their capture. "But they're so weak. We'd never be able to take them all with us, and one-by-one will take too long."

"My… _mate_, he can help them, all in one go. But we need to find him, and we need to find his box - have you seen it? It's big, wooden, and dark blue…" Clara pressed her face between the bars of the gate, hoping to see something relevant to the box she'd arrived in.

"I have seen the box you speak of. And your mate is just… over… there…" Equos held out a finger through the gate, pointing in the direction of the bowtie-donning alien. The wrestling pit was standing between them.

"Oh, great," Clara grumbled. "So, do you have a plan?"

Equos frowned. "Why would I have a plan?"

_'All on me then - okay. I can do this. I am the 'impossible girl' after-all. Surely something about this will go impossibly to plan…'_ Clara continued to convince herself everything would be fine, after all, it was only a week ago she had the Maitland kids to contend with in the local shopping arcade. If she could come out of that alive with just a headache and sore feet, she could find her alien, find the TARDIS and be home in time for tea.

As she thought on, beside her Equos unbuttoned the neckline of their robe. "I do have this, however," and showed an iridescent crystal that hummed at the young creature's touch.

"What is it?"

"A psychic medallion fragment - I got inside with it. The gift of it is that, when worn, it will turn your lies into truths, but I have to be careful; since it's only a shard and not the full medallion, it can only work once with each individual I meet."

"Meaning… any guard you've already passed will realise you lied your way in here?" Clara was convinced this was leading her back to the cell she'd just left.

"Yes, but if you wear it…" Equos took the flax-like string from around her neck and looped it over Clara's. "You'll have a better chance of escape and finding your mate," she said with a confident smile.

The glint within the fragment made her palm glow. "There's only one problem, Equos."

"What's that?"

"What about you, and what about my _mate_?"

Equos dismissed themselves in Clara's question, showing her the darts, and purely focused on the Doctor. "You need only to find him."

* * *

Another twisted staircase climbed, another white-stone corner turned, and another jail door left behind as she kept her head down and told each new guard she saw that she was to bring food to the prisoner, borrowing the platter she'd been brought before. The medallion shard helped her take the quickest route through to the Time Lord, signalling with one distinct vibrating jolt to her chest when a new guard was up ahead, and another two when a familiar one was there. Holding her breath, Clara watched from a crevice, waiting for a familiar guard to exit before she could slip past the rest of them on this block. And when he did, Clara shot through the gate at the end of the corridor, spiralling down the stairs to the next floor. Along there, she could see the wrestling pit at ground level to the right of her, realising the Doctor was a few cells down from here.

_'No guards. Brilliant! Probably cleaning their spears of the muck and blood they're constantly smothered in,'_ Clara thought to herself. Finding the coast clear was a benefit, she was almost in reaching distance to safety. Biting her lip, she tiptoed, scanning the pit left and right, up to the stands and across to where she saw the throne she'd been bound to a while before. Knowing she was more exposed than ever, she kept vigilant. And then, there he was. Her heart skipped.

Watching him sitting there, clutching his dusty knees to his dustier chest, she could see his tear-streaked cheeks as he rocked slowly back and forth in sullen madness. She brought him from his misery with a gentle "Hello chin-boy," spoken just for him.

The Time Lord found her sweet smile to his left, and leapt to his feet. "Clara! You're alive!"

The brunette giggled at his desperate state, clinging to the bars of his cage. Never had he looked quite so adorable to her. But within the back of her mind, the deepest depths of her heart, she knew she never wanted to see this image again. The Doctor should be free, not locked up.

"You said you'd find me, but I beat you to it." Her hands quickly picked the lock, and as the door to the jail creaked, his were reaching out to her. She held them tight, bringing them to her face for him to kiss her forehead. "I'll make you a soufflé when we get back to the TARDIS."

"Oh, you don't want to spoil the rest of the day as well, do you?"

She couldn't help but laugh at his words, but she stopped as she felt a sudden shift behind her, before the Doctor clung tight around her waist.

"Leave her alone!" No way was he letting her go again; he'd sooner be killed this time just to save her from their filthy plans a little while longer. "She's not going anywhere with you!"

"Equos, you got out!?" Clara was pleasantly surprised as she saw the figure come into view. Looking up into his furious eyes, she told the Doctor "It's fine; she's a friend - they rescued me."

"They did?" Quickly giving Clara a glance, his piercing stare moved Equos into replying and making their voice heard.

"I managed to get here unharmed, and yes, I rescued your mate."

"_Mate_?!"

Clara winced at the word and whispered to him, "Yea… they seem to think we're together."

"_Together_, together?"

Clara nodded, feeling him stiffen in shock.

Pushing her out at arms' length, the Doctor eyed the little human up for an explanation. "Well… we're not, are we?" He didn't really know how she'd taken the kiss from earlier, and he didn't want it being brought up again. Being embarrassed wasn't his favourite feeling. Brows tight in confusion, bowtie straightened through nerves, and his throat cleared, anxiously waiting for her reply.

She regarded him, patting him gently on the cheek while she smiled affectionately at his flustering, slightly enjoying the power she had over him. "No, you idiot - it's just a misunderstanding. And what would be so wrong if we were?" A brow rose on her forehead, adding to the alien's many reasons to squirm right now.

But instead he distracted her with the task of opening the cell. "Just, come on, get me out of here!"

Clara giggled and got to work.

Finally free and unable to control the urge, his alien arms encircled his tiny companion, squeezing her tight to his body. He wasn't sure what type of hug this was, but he knew they both needed it, and soon it became a cuddle as she snuggled into his tweed and he into the crook of her neck. He breathed her in. The wonderful sweetness of Clara coated his senses, a perfect blend of sleepiness and coffee from her morning on Earth, and added sunshine and time from their travel to Kep. He craved it and nestled in closer.

Clara smiled against the material her cheek was squished into, listening to his hearts beating beneath her ear. She'd never admit it, but it was her favourite sound.

"We should leave," their new friend said.

Reluctantly prizing themselves away from each other, the snuggling pair agreed.

Still he couldn't take his eyes or hands off the young human he doted on. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Better now," she reassured.

They were not married. They were not a couple. The Doctor was certainly not her _mate_, and he'd never dream of considering her as his. This was a friendship, and this was all it was. But like any relationship of any kind, the pair soon hit a discussion neither of them were prepared to back down from, and neither really wanted to have at this moment in time, but they were exhausted, stressed and the need to vent it was overwhelming.

Pacing up and down and pacing some more, the Doctor walked past his frustrated human while he racked his brain for a solution to her newest plan. "It's far too dangerous, Clara."

"But when we get the ship, we can set them free!"

"And then what? They just get captured again or worse yet… they're killed, and it'd be my fault!"

With her fists in tight balls, Clara took a deep, calming breath. "This isn't you. You help people! We don't walk away; what happened to that?"

"I have to get you off this planet," the Doctor continued to ignore his companion.

Tears caught Clara's lashes, but she was defiant to let them fall. "You haven't seen them; they're just children!"

He stopped pacing, grabbed her by the shoulders and made himself crystal clear. "You are the most precious thing to me right now. With you safe at home, maybe then I'll be able to come back and rescue them, but please listen to what I'm telling you…" The Doctor's hands cupped her damp cheeks as she let the teardrops go. "I need to get you away from here - I can't lose you!"

"Then just promise me…"

"Promise you what?"

"… That you'll at least try to save them too…"

The Doctor took a heavy, painful sigh. Words were meaningless. Once she was safely tucked in the TARDIS, away from the dangers she'd previously faced, he could relax and the lies he told may not matter. But she was smart. He only picked the best to come with him, and that's what troubled him. She could see right through his lies already. This time a promise must mean just that.

"Okay. For you, for them, I'll try."

"Thank you." Clara threw her arms around his neck and his drew her close around her waist.

"Now, my ship, Equos - where is it from here?"

"Down there, under the tower." The humanoid pointed out through the elegantly detailed gap in the stone wall they were crouched beside, and all noticed a few guards wandering around the base of the tower staircase.

"I passed those earlier." Clara worried. "We'll need a diversion."

"And I need my sonic." The alien sifted through his pockets for no good reason, since it wasn't there.

"What's a _sonic_?" Equos asked.

"My sonic screwdriver - never leave home without it, but the Lord and his men took it from me."

"What does it look like?"

"Long, chunky, complicated, lights up at the end and-" He halted as he noticed it being presented before him. "Oh, you beauty!" The Doctor leaned over to reach it, kissing it affectionately. "Where'd you find it?"

"I pickpocketed a guard for the keys to Lord Usko's personal chambers. Upon entering, I found a few strange items were scattered over his desk, and this one matched the description I got from your mate."

"I had to tell them," Clara's guilty eyes looked up at the Time Lord. "And… what the TARDIS looks like…"

He looked over his beloved gadget to make sure it hadn't been tampered with. "You didn't know you could trust them. Even now, we can't completely trust them."

"But they saved me!"

"Rule fifty - never trust an alien." Almost scowling at her now, the Doctor wasn't happy with Clara telling Equos about his possessions.

While this was a sudden change in mood that none of them were prepared for, she knew not to pick a fight like she usually would. He was upset, and he made mistakes when it was upset. But still. "I trust _you_," her voice meek, yet stern.

"Yes, well." Aware of being observed, the Doctor took a sheepish glance up into the eyes staring at them both. "That certainly put me in my place."

"You're quite peculiar creatures." Equos mentioned, and made the three of them chuckle.

"As exhilarating as this is, my dears, back to the plan."

Looking hopeful, yet a little sceptical, Clara asked him, "You have one?"

"I'll create the diversion - the drainage systems in the cells, I suspect, carry waste from the baths houses too."

"Don't like where this is going… but continue." She was imagining a flood of stagnant water, and it didn't fill her with any joy should they get caught in it.

"I'm going to flood it!"

She groaned and clung to him in desperation, shaking his shoulders. "You are ridiculous!"

"Well, tell me how you'd get the TARDIS." He folded his arms and raised his brows, satisfied his superior brain was a billion times better at thinking up plans than any human's.

"My diversion involved this." And she took hold of the shard she was still wearing around her neck. "Our new friend gave me it to get to you."

"But it's useless since the guards have seen you and me while we wore it." Equos reminded her.

Clara looked back at her rescuer, and showed them the Doctor's sonic at the same time. "With the Doctor's device, it could amplify its psychic abilities for all three of us." Facing the Time Lord once more, asking for confirmation. "Couldn't it?" And she found him grinning wildly at her. "What's that goofy expression for?"

"I love your brilliant mind!" Kissing her forehead, he added, "Much better than my idea, and less messy. Really, I wouldn't want to clean all that up. Would you? Bleugh!"

* * *

Dodging the last guard with more nonsense excuses of who they were and what they were doing, they made it through the door to the room the ship was held in, and dived in the box - one, two, three.

"Clara, you genius!" The Doctor cried as he darted to and fro around the console, waking up the ship, with the woman of his affections following him with a skip in her step.

"That's why you like me." Beside the alien she stood as he began twiddling specific dials and pulling at random levers.

"Isn't it just. Now, press that button to your right," he instructed, pointing to a bright yellow nub. "Rise and shine, Sexy!" He cried to his ship.

"Oh, my!" Equos gasped, hanging on tight to the rail beside her.

The pair of travellers heard the almost silent intake of air, realising a newcomer had stepped aboard, and chuckled at their first impressions of the bright lights and clinical feel. Glancing back, the Time Lord and his companion continued with their job of setting new coordinates.

"This is incredible, Doctor!"

And the merriment died down.

The Doctor stepped away from the console, sceptical. "You know my name? I've never been here before - you didn't tell her my name, did you?" He looked to Clara, receiving her shaking noggin in response. "Can never be too careful with new planets… believe it or not, I've been trying to keep out of the way…"

While he was busy babbling, Equos stepped up to them and whipped out the crystal from under Clara's collar to show him. "I'm sure I know more than you'd care to find out, but you need not appear so troubled; my kind is peaceful." Her features softened to a pleasant smile.

"And what is your kind?" Clara asked, removing the shard from around her neck to hand back over. "You never explained who you were."

"See, this is why you don't trust aliens!" The _alien_ whispered rather loudly into her ear.

"I still have no idea who you are either," Clara bantered.

"I am a néyuut," Equos's, timely, interrupted and stole their attention. "Named because we are mostly a neutral species, we do not dabble in conflict as it is against our teachings and against out nature, unlike for yourselves or the kepiant."

"Kepiant?" The Doctor asked.

"Those lords and ladies, the brutes and the courtiers," Equos snorted.

"You speak as though you don't approve of them."

"As far as the néyuut are concerned, kepiants are selfish rulers of this, once beautiful, planet. Today was a perfect example. Their princes will fight to the death for a queen. If she is not receptive, she will be held captive until it's her time to breed… and, sometimes, if she still will not succumb…" Equos looked towards Clara, not needing to continue and finish their sentence.

"Is that what happened to Princess Loah? Did they… rape her because she wouldn't _breed_?" She asked, wide-eyed, holding the Doctor's hand tightly, for fear of letting him go.

"No. Thankfully, she was not of age to endure such a fate. But she was struck by illness. Just fourteen years old."

The Doctor and Clara looked to each other. There was mutual sorrow in their eyes. Despite the difficult lesson in kepiant courtship, a child of theirs had died.

"And that's what they were doing with me, in there? Because I wouldn't marry the suitor, I was being held, like those other girls, until I-" Clara felt sick, unable to continue.

"Came into season," the Doctor spoke for her, and tucked his arms around her, protectively.

Clara felt her blood boil at the notion. "Don't bring me back here again." She squeezed him like her life depended on his warm embrace, because in the end it really did.

As his lips found her forehead, they lingered there, tenderly, which stirred Equos into taking a step back out the TARDIS door to give the couple some privacy.

"Don't leave - you've done so much for us. Please, would you care to join us on a little trip? As a thank you."

"Oh, no Doctor, I couldn't. I don't want to intrude now you're safe and at home." She replied, rather bashfully. "I need no reward, but all I want is a promise from you that you never lose each other…" An eerie still fell upon the trio, and Equos spoke again. "You must stay together."

"Of course," the Time Lord smiled, a little uncomfortably. "We promise."

"You belong in each other's hearts; you do know that, don't you?" The néyuut wasn't making any sense as they continued, but neither one were prepared to interrupt. "You are male…" Equos looked to the Doctor, and then to Clara. "And you are female."

The pair of them blushed, unable to reply for a moment, and looked to each other with slight hesitation and confusion. The idea of them being a 'couple' was not what Clara signed up for when she jumped aboard, and neither had the Doctor wished it when he invited her. But Equos was a psychic creature, far more intelligent than most, and the old alien's brain soon understood what Equos was implying.

"We're just friends; just strictly friends."

Clara smiled, nodding in agreement. "Best friends."

"Ah, but there's something more," and Equos's face shifted to a mischievous grin. She held a hand over the Doctor's chest, and watched as his brows furrowed, wrinkling his forehead to watch the light cream palm hover in-front of him. Her other palm hovered over Clara's chest. "It'll find a way."

The Time Lord and his companion once again looked to each other, shrugging in bewilderment. Their voices united to ask, "What will?"

"Your future."

Shaking his head with a smile plastered on his face at the impossible destiny Equos was speaking of, the Doctor reached over to hug their new friend. "Well, the future won't arrive unless Clara and I get going. It was lovely meeting you."

"And you, Doctor."

Clara followed, hugging Equos, giving them a peck on the cheek. "Thank you, for everything."

"My pleasure, Miss Oswald." Equos let her go and gave their species salute.

The travelling duo smiled and tried to imitate the salute, before giving their own of a wave goodbye, watching the young guardian leave the TARDIS.

Clara's eyes crept up to the Time Lord's, and his lowered to the impossible girl's.

_'Another day of almost losing the most precious thing in the universe,'_ he thought as he let himself drown in the new cuddle that unfolded between them. He basked in that wonderful Clara scent again, burying his nose in her hair. He wanted nothing more than to hold her forever, keep her close to him at all times. Losing her twice before meant the need to protect her ruled his conscious, and nothing would stand in his way to do so.

* * *

**If anyone who'd previously liked this fanfic noticed, Equos was genderless before but I'd always imagined them to be female so wanted to make it so. I've been editing my chapters to improve my grammar, since I know I did a terrible job before so I've been making sure everything is correct this time, as best I can do with my limited knowledge of the subject. Also I'm working on a cover for this story but it won't be done for a while yet. Next chapter will be up soon.**


	3. She's Magic

**Huge thank you to those who've followed this already, really appreciate it. :) And also to who reviewed as well, that was very sweet of you to say. Hope this chapter will deliver just as well.**

* * *

**Three**

_It's all a little slow right now, the start can be confusing, but the wait is worth it in the end._

* * *

The Doctor sighed. "Well… things never change for Kep."

Clara looked up, quizzically. "You said you'd never been here before. You didn't know who the kepiant and néyuut were."

He smirked at her. "Rule one?"

The little brunette smiled, rolling her pretty brown eyes. Some things never changed with the Doctor's little white lies and secrets either.

"Last time I was here, Loah's father was just a baby, and the Hiujin wizards tried to kill him," he explained.

"Usko mentioned a time the throne was at risk of being captured by them," said Clara, remembering the lord's words.

"And guess who stopped them."

She watched his proud smile and pretended to think it over. "Ooh, someone very brave…"

"Yup."

"And very clever…"

"Mhm."

"Very funny…"

"Irrelevant for battle, but sure."

"Great hair…"

The Doctor looked at her oddly, but all she returned was a cheeky glint in her eyes. "Now you're just listing nice things about me!"

"Who said I was talking about you? And are you complaining?"

"'Course not - just making sure." The Doctor's bowtie was tweaked with pride.

"You're the bravest and cleverest man I know," she told him, and tiptoed to kiss his cheek. "Thank you for protecting me."

But he hesitated, dismissed her words with a shake of his head. He smiled softly and said, "No Clara, it's I who should be thankful. I've been told I'm dangerous company; I put people's lives in danger, and you were in my care. Even Equos was at risk - we owe them our lives. I don't know what I'd have done if she'd never found you." He squeezed her closer, fussing a hand over her hair for comfort, unsure if it was for his or her benefit.

In such a moment, a sentimental gesture was often exchanged, and the thought left him blushing.

But Clara tucked a gentle hand beside the cheek she'd kissed before, and was now turning pink. She didn't want him to worry. "Doctor, I'm safe now," she assured him, meeting his eyes with hers. "I'm completely fine. Anyway, speaking of our saviour, what did Equos mean, our future will find a way?"

He'd brushed it off. Maybe he could _imagine_ the simple words their new friend had told them were all true, the hidden meaning that he and Clara were to be an item, a couple, possibly even marry one day. All those thoughts fizzled away eventually because, in reality, the lovely néyuut was probably reading far too much into his friendship with his companion.

His fringe flowed back and forth as he shook his head. "I have no idea, but it'll be one of those things we shouldn't go blundering into unannounced. We'll have to let the future come to us. Ugh, how boring!"

"So no skipping ahead?"

"Not this time," he chuckled at the thought of the friendly humanoid. "Aliens say the strangest things."

Clara gave the Time Lord a cheeky smirk, tightening her arms around him. "And do the sweetest things," she added.

"What? What d'you mean?"

"I seem to recall someone kissing me."

"Oh!" A reminder of that morning was too soon. Far too soon. "Oh, that…"

"Yes,_ that._"

"I, uh… well," the Doctor flustered his hands behind Clara's back, crossing and uncrossing his digits. "I can totally explain."

"I bet you can."

"Well, Clara-" he began, and still his hands trembled up and down her spine, as though it'd help him think up a reason for that kiss. "I was worried… about you, of course."

"Usually when you're worried, you do this," and she grabbed his hands from behind her and showed him how they were shaking. Sliding them back behind her and pulling him into another appreciative snuggle, she said, "Then I do this, to show you that you needn't worry anymore, that I'm right here." Her head rested on his chest, and her palms smoothed soothingly across his back to calm him. With little ego, she realised how much she must mean to him, how much he meant to her, and it was a pleasant surprise. "You don't have to explain anything - I'd have done the same."

"You would?"

"Mhm." Sensing his frown of confusion, Clara raised her eyes to his again. She thought it over; if she'd been any braver, had lost herself in the moment, she'd have kissed him for necessity, to show that she cared and she'd miss him if he ever went away. "Call it a reflex action. When you're in such a situation that a person you care most about could leave you forever, your brain has to-"

"Humiliate you?"

She cocked her head to the side slightly and sighed. She hadn't expected it to embarrass him quite so much. "That wasn't what I meant, Doctor. Are you okay?"

"Of course I am. I'm the king of okay," he replied in a cheery tone. Masking his true emotions with a false smile, he let a fingertip drop a light tap on his companion's nose, swiftly turned to the console and fiddled with a few switches until the ship was in autopilot. "Now then, old girl, I have a bone to pick with you!" The alien began mumbling and grumbling to his ship in a language Clara couldn't understand, but he sounded quite annoyed. "I know what your readings showed, but honestly! To risk her life _again_? Why do you hate her so much, hmm? She's such a lovely human… wouldn't harm a hair on your head! If you had any hair… or a head…"

Seating herself on the big black seat beside her, the girl the ship and its owner were discussing felt the sudden, sharp coldness of the material on her legs, and promptly stood back up, hissing at the shivery sensation. "Could I have a blanket, Doctor?"

He glanced over to see Clara rubbing her chilly thighs. "Blanket. Yep. I'm on it," and out he dashed to the corridors.

A deep sigh left Clara's lungs. He was never going to talk about it, was never going to admit to his feelings, and honestly, she had no intention of admitting to hers. Those butterflies that fluttered in her chest, all the way across her heart, making their presence known every time he was near, she would pluck every single one and force them into surrender just long enough until she was home and could allow them flight.

As a few minutes seemed to pass, she made her way to her bedroom to change, returning in one of her usual casual outfits, and she'd tied a simple red bow into her hair that he'd always taken a shine to, after being picked out completely at random. Total coincidence, of course…

Finding he hadn't come back by the time she skipped up the steps, she leant on the console, imagining his nimble fingers tapping away, his feet dancing across the floor all around, his coat blowing open with every poetic move he made as he flew his ship to another fantastical planet or time, and she smiled at the thought of flying it with him one day.

Suddenly, she heard his boots growing louder with each step closer.

"So! On with our next trip!" The Doctor brought with him the blanket, which draped across his arm, for Clara to get comfortable on, and his expression was a relief to her. He was smiling again! "Where shall we go now?"

"Does that _actually_ make a difference?" She replied, dryly, scanning her eyes over the many buttons and switches before looking up to the Doctor with a sweet, '_I'm-all-innocent_', smile.

Knowing how very true Clara's question was, the trusted ship hummed as though encouraging her intuition. One of the few times they'd agreed on anything.

"Do I detect the hint of sarcasm, Miss Oswald?" The Doctor questioned. He was all too aware and growing quite fond of her witty attitude. It was a trait that attracted him to her, initially, and now the teasing and banter was the regularity.

"Indeed you do, Mr… um…" Overcome with confusion, which the alien echoed, she was a little stumped. "You have a surname don't you? You used 'Smith' on that planet, but surely you have a real name?"

"Yes. Yea, I suppose I do." He turned away to fiddle with some buttons and switches in an attempt to look far too busy to answer any more questions she may fire at him. "Could you flip that switch for me?"

Her hand hovered over her guess. "This one?"

The Doctor replied with a smile and a quick, solitary nod.

Trying and failing to catch his eye, her thumb brushed over the switch, pushing it up at his request. Clara knew his name was something he held firmly to his chest, hidden away in his hearts. This was simply to cause some friendly mischief, since his mysterious charm and quirky ways gave her curiosity plenty to feed on. "So, you ever gonna tell me what it is?"

"Hmm?"

"Your name…?"

"Oh. Nope! I don't think I will. I'm just the Doctor."

He didn't want to keep secrets from her, but he didn't want to keep them from any of his friends. His fear of losing another meant some things had to remain just so.

Story of his life.

Though, he adored Clara. He loved the way those delectable lips often timidly twitched to smile at him, the way she'd blush when he'd look at her in that way. And, quite recently, his feelings for her were growing from simple fascination to utter admiration. He hadn't known what to make of it all until that afternoon, locked up in that cell, about to lose her again.

So he'd kiss her forehead a little longer, hold her hand a little tighter, and gaze into her eyes a little deeper, just to say all he wanted without speaking a conscious word, without the necessity to. Their affectionate hugs began to linger, his hands would cup her face more than occasionally, and he relished those sweet little smiles she only made around him.

Clara, knowing not to push the subject, shared a sincere smile, and turned to seat herself, encasing her body in the thick blanket. With arms folded over her raised knees, she fell into her mind, hearing several thoughts float around. _'I wish he'd be more open… he should know he can trust me.'_ She looked up at this funny, wonderful man, either busy setting coordinates to another exciting planet or time, or tinkering lovingly with the ship, and a few other thoughts rattled around her head. Some innocent, some cheeky, some downright filthy, and she giggled at those. But affectionately she thought, _'He's so cute when he flails, so handsome when he stands proud…'_

Peering down to his hands gripping a lever in one and squeezing a switch in the other, the Doctor stilled, taking a moment to replay the words in his own mind… over and over. His hearts began to drum, the thumping strong inside his ears, and he gulped. Why did those words enter his conscience? The melody of the voice that spoke them tickled a shiver from his tail to his nape. He could never allow himself to believe what he'd heard.

But all the same…

_'I didn't know she felt that way…'_

"What do you mean?"

A little, curious voice behind him prized its way through his thoughts, and the Doctor refused to raise his gaze to his companion's, trying his best to ignore the fluke he could already smell in the air. "Sorry?" he queried. He managed to tame his body once again to waltz round the console with his duster in hand, idly flicking it here and there across the controls.

"What do you mean; you didn't know she felt that way? Who're you talking about? Is that miserable cow moaning about me again?" Clara frowned, pointing daggers at the console.

And the wise old alien's eyes suddenly met the innocent young human's in a moment of absolute brilliance. "You- you heard that?"

"Of course I did."

The Doctor took a small step in reverse, in shock his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. "But… Clara, I didn't say anything."

She sat confused. "Yea, you did. I heard you."

"No. I didn't _say _anything."

"You're not making sense."

He certainly was making sense, and did the only thing possible to help her understand his meaning. "Okay," closing his mouth, the Doctor tentatively added, _'Clara, I didn't physically say anything.'_

The tiny brunette straightened her posture as she heard the soft, faint whisper of the Doctor's voice inside her mind. She stared at him in amazement. "How the hell did you do that?" Doubting the impossible didn't wash with her anymore, despite his incessant nickname for her.

"More to the point, how did _you_ do that?" Cautiously, he walked over to crouch beside her. "I'm not dreaming, am I? You're definitely real?" And he gave a small, quick pinch to the back of her hand, making her squeal.

"Ow! Yes, I'm definitely real!" Clara snapped, tapping the pinchy fingers away.

"Sorry - had to make sure." The Doctor pondered on the fact, "Humans aren't supposed to do that." And then he giggled, adorably. "You shouldn't be able to do that! I mean, I can hear human thoughts. Happens often by accident, but a human hearing a Time Lord's? That's something unique!" He cradled Clara's cheek in his palm, affectionately stroking her skin, in awe of her.

However fantastic, he was curious. He didn't want to push it. Although if the kiss he gave her was anything to go by, she now knew his feelings, at least. She could try to mask the idea with her _"it's a reflex action"_ argument. He dismissed that conclusion, there was more to it, and his brain began to race with what it all meant between them.

"Can you do it again?"

Still stunned, Clara replied, "You can read my mind?" Albeit rhetorical, and ignoring his request to demonstrate her new trick, it was the first thing she thought of. Her eyes flittered away from his, and a blush dispersed over her skin while his tender touch to her face lingered still, caressing her as though to spread the pink tint all around her face. The thought he could have read more than just whatever he had before their discovery, left a strange uneasiness inside that his contact was so invasive. "How often do you- I mean, do you read my mind a lot?"

He shook his head in honesty. "First time, just now."

"Really?"

"Cross my hearts!"

"Good, 'cause there's stuff in there I don't think I could bear you knowing, so no peeking again," Clara asserted. She straightening her skirt around her thighs and laid back against the seat to get comfy, feeling a little more confident he'd not been intruding in her thoughts on purpose.

"Of course," he agreed. Though the curious Time Lord innocently enquired, "Just what kind of stuff should I avoid?" He hadn't realised the words had come out of his mouth until she rolled her eyes.

Clara's feelings for him, she'd tried so hard to keep them at bay, however she was quite content ignoring him at this moment.

The Doctor cottoned on and teased, "Oh, don't be so modest, Miss Oswald!"

Now she had to look away.

Without missing a beat, remembering how he'd reacted as she questioned the kiss, he quickly apologised. He never meant to embarrass her; she knew he wasn't the type. But teasing wasn't going to win her over to confess her undying love for him. Though now he was onto her, why hide it anymore?

Shyly meeting his eyes, Clara frowned, feeling let down by her silly school-girl emotions. She imagined she was well over those teenage years full of crushes. "It's always so easy to flirt with you. You make me laugh. You make me feel relaxed enough that it doesn't mean anything to tease like we do. And it _doesn't_ mean anything… not until you add real emotion into it."

Shifting his weight to the balls of his feet, slightly bobbing up and down merrily, the Doctor smiled to himself, distantly hearing her words. _'Well now. Clara has a crush on me.'_

An eyebrow rose on her face. "Smug, are we? Did you even listen to anything I just said?"

The shock of her mental intimacy once more had the Doctor tumble off balance. He yelped from his sudden thud to the floor, accidentally pulling Clara towards him as she grabbed his arm, attempting to help prevent what'd happened. She ended up kneeling over one of his thighs, her hands clutching his to help steady themselves, and their eyes fixed on each other's as burning blushes were exchanged.

It wasn't the most graceful of falls or dignified of situations, and after a brief muttering of, _"Hello" - "Hi" - "Well… this is-" - "Awkward" - "Just a bit" - "You okay?" - "I'm fine"_ she helped him to sit up.

"So much for modesty."

"Clara, this whole telepathy, malarkey, I'm not used to it anymore." Fingers raked through his barnet, tussling with the knowledge this was completely out of his hands.

And speaking of hands… Clara's was coming closer.

"We'll figure something out. We'll take baby steps, starting with this…"

The Doctor's eyes fixed on the open palm inches from his knee. Five little wiggly digits were tempting him to take that first step with her, asking him to hold tight and run with her. No big deal, it wasn't the first time, only that's exactly how it felt. And sensing a few seconds passed them by, the girl at his side softly chuckled at his unblinking eyes, knowing he was processing something hidden from her.

"When you like someone, and they like you, then you hold their hand… and you don't let go."

He gulped, and felt his hearts dancing the fastest samba he'd ever known.

Clara smiled at him. "It won't bite."

And, finally, his palm smoothed across hers.

* * *

There wasn't a word uttered for almost twenty minutes, which was an incredible feat for the alien. The pair enjoyed each other's silent company, lost in their own thoughts. He wondered how this would change their whole friendship and travelling arrangement - would it strengthen it, weaken it… ruin it? Things of this nature never went his way, and reluctant as he was to fall in love, it was already happening.

The Doctor watched her through his oversized fringe, smiling at the concentration on her screwed up features, glaring at the floor beneath her, and clearly giving herself a telling off for something or other.

Clara was thinking much the same of their friendship, unsure if this was a brilliant or disastrous idea. Though, it seemed out of their control. Her eyebrows rose and then buried deep into her eyes, her head tilted before shaking a thought away, and her chest heaved with a sigh as another little smile broke across her face. Such ideas of a relationship with his wonderful man who flew into her life in his _snog-box_, her mind was racing and running away with her.

The gentle caresses of his thumb over hers were enough to prize Clara out from her mind, and her eyes rose to the Doctor's.

All around the blossoming relationship, the TARDIS began lowering her lights to a dusky blue, confusing the pair for a moment until there was a faint sound of peaceful, romantic music playing from along the corridor, and became louder in the console room. It made them giggle at the machine's awkward timing.

"Oi, ya saucy minx! That's enough."

The teasing ship returned her lights to their usual shade and brightness, with the music drowning out soon after.

Giving Clara his full attention again, he asked, "What are you thinking about?"

Although having thought about it, letting it settle, curious to how it all worked, she was somewhat shocked at herself for suggesting, "You tell me."

Not understanding why she wanted him to do that after he promised not to, and being determined to stick to that promise, the Doctor began stammering as though trying to ask for reassurance.

But she smiled. "Go on, tell me."

"If there's something you don't want me to see, I won't look if you just imagine a closed door, okay?"

"Okay."

There was a lot hidden from him, he felt that much. He could see many doors appearing and disappearing as she frantically fought the thoughts she didn't want him knowing, back.

A large hand came to rest at her neck.

_'Just relax,'_ he told her.

Clara had a lot to learn with this. Through fear it wouldn't make a difference, for fear he'd make her leave, the deepest, darkest secrets she'd always been able to keep hidden from him, now were the most difficult to hide as he wandered around her mind, and she slipped up.

_'Oops…'_

The gentle drumming of her increasing pulse hit his thumb as his hand drifted under her ear, caressing away her blush. _'Well, to answer my question, you're thinking about kissing my chin.'_

Her adorable giggle made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

"Shut up."

_'If you want me to?'_

"No! This is so strange, and it'll take a while to get used to but… I don't want you to leave my mind. I don't want you to shut up - ever." Clara willingly fell into his arms, knowing she'd never want to move from his embrace, neither did he want her to, but she felt a pain against her chest in that awkward position across his lap, and wriggled from his arms. "Ow, Doctor - may want to let go. Your sonic, it's poking my-"

"Sorry! Damn thing's so knobbly these days," he cursed his gadget, removing it from his pocket, and reddened from the embarrassment of where it'd been poking her.

Clara let out a tension-breaking laugh at his reaction to her gently rubbing her sore breast, and playfully snatched the knobbly gadget from his hand before jumping to her feet, and almost skipped around the console. Her comfy cardigan and skirt billowed out, giving her retreat a graceful air. The sonic was promptly dropped into her blouse pocket, before she stood opposite him with her hands on her hips, a cheeky grin on her face, and with her new found skill, she tempted him to, _'Fetch, chin-boy.'_

It was back to business, back to the fun and games the pair of big kids would create of an evening away from the horrors and dangers they experienced. The regular occurrence of flirting wasn't unusual, but now they knew love was to flourish by itself, what else was there left to do?

Of course, the old alien liked a challenge, accepting hers with an equally pleasing grin creeping over his face. He leapt from the floor, walking closer, backing her up slowly further into the TARDIS, and as he stopped, he told her to, "Run."

A smirk played on her lips. The idea of him chasing her was simply too good to miss, the thrill of being caught, and what may follow. In a flash, she disappeared along the corridor.

All that was left in her wake was her scent floating by his nose, which the Doctor breathed in deeply and adored. He waited, giving her a slight head-start as he circled the console, asking for her help in tracking his impossible girl in their little game. Shifting and changing corridors, the ship was eager to oblige. He whipped off his tweed and threw it over the railings before the chase began.

_'Ready or not… here I come.'_

* * *

**Aww, clichés. We all secretly fall for them. I'd read a lot of fics about the Doctor and companions having telepathy and I really liked the idea, however overused it was, but it's going to be such a handy trick later on, which you'll learn soon enough.**


	4. Something Unknown

**Beware, soppiness galore! I'm not too proud of this chapter so if you don't like it, snap. Due to laziness, I've just never been bothered to make major changes but I've tried a little improvement today, though the rest of the story wouldn't make sense without it, so it's got to be included.**

* * *

**Four**

Clara had soon figured a route to the furthest door she could find along a corridor. Opening it up slowly, she found… "The library?! Why did you bring me here? It's the first place he'll look!"

And as predicted, the Doctor leaned over her and whispered into her ear, "Found you."

She jumped out of her skin, spinning round seeing the silly expression on his face. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Is that not the point?"

"How did you find me so quickly?"

"The wife helped a bit…"

The TARDIS was accepting of the Doctor's fascination with his feisty little northerner, but that didn't mean she had to _like_ the woman, and she'd have her own fun with her Doctor's new stray.

Clara felt him pluck the sonic from her pocket while she was resting, and trying to grab it back failed when he raised his hand, keeping it above her arm's length.

Though he loved his companion's dinky, pocket-sized statue, watching her jump up made him laugh. Sometimes it was fun to tease her over how he towered above her.

She huffed in annoyance and placed her hands on her hips. He was enjoying this way too much. Noticing his ribs were exposed under his thin shirt and waistcoat, Clara reached over to tickle them and her fingers had him instantly laughing erratically.

He learnt she's a skilled tickler - she learnt he's very ticklish.

"Do you give in?"

"Okay, okay! Here, take it!" He squealed, dropping the sonic.

Clara swiped it off the floor, pushing it into her cardigan pocket. "I win!"

"You won by a tickle."

"I still won."

Clara's fingers wriggled towards him again, mischievously. The Doctor flinched back against the doorframe, making her giggle, but all she wanted to do was hug him. They took pleasure in the feel of their bodies moulding perfectly into each other's. There was no escaping this. This was meant to be.

"I haven't been this happy in the longest time, and I owe it all to you." The Doctor said, kissing the top of her head.

Forgetting for a moment he could read her thoughts, her mind blazed with all the silly things she wanted to say to him, but couldn't out-loud. _'This is perfect, the Doctor and me,' 'I want to stay in his arms forever,' 'How can I possibly begin to tell him how I feel?'_

His heartbeats increasing beneath her ear, and as his embrace tightened, palms stroked up and down her back. He chuckled and closed his eyes, softly begging her, _'Don't stop.'_

She would have continued, but there was a question irritating her curiosity. "How does this telepathy work? Why am I so unique being able to with you?" She only wanted to distract from her nerves, and the subject of _feelings_ again. Feelings lead to awkwardness right now, and they'd just begun to let everything sink in.

"Oh… you want to ask that _now_?"

"Mhm," she nodded. Her eyes wide with wonder.

The Doctor was a little disappointed, hoping to hear more of how she felt for him to polish his, clearly non-existent, ego. He looked over her head, further into the library. "Well, you could read some of those books over there", he said, nodding towards the hundreds of shelves.

Clara turned in his arms, leaning back against his chest to see the scale of it all. That was _a lot_ of books. "Know what? Love a good read but I think I'll pass." Facing him once again, lightly drumming her fingertips on his chest, she asked, "Why don't you tell me?"

"But it's a complicated subject - the prospect of endless questions-"

"Like what?"

"Like that!" He laughed.

"Oh," she giggled. "I can't help it. I'm curious!"

"You are indeed, a curious little thing."

"Hey, I'm not that little!" Clara protested with a pout.

"Really?" The Doctor scoffed.

"Wait there you." Clara spun on her heels and grabbed a few large, dusty books from the closest shelf. "Oh, you don't mind, do you?"

Realising what she was about to do, the Doctor folded his arms and shook his head, watching as she struggled to carry them all… and promptly dropped them in-front of him by accident.

Dust flew everywhere.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" She froze to the spot with shame.

"It's fine. I haven't had my daily intake of dust yet." The Doctor spluttered, patting his clothes clean.

"Was actually talking of dropping your books…" Regretting the idea as she straightened the Gallifreyan thesauruses, Clara stacked them on top of one other. She wobbled slightly, trying to perch atop, but the Doctor steadied her, placing his hands to her hips.

"Better?"

"Exceptionally," she replied, dusting his shoulders.

"Well, it'll be easier to kiss you again, I suppose. Could we do it properly this time?"

Clara chuckled and told him, "You don't need to ask now."

"Oh. I suppose not, under the circumstances. I've had a lot of pretty young ladies want to kiss me. And sometimes their over-enthusiastic mothers…" He had a faraway look in his eye, remembering Jackie Tyler snogging him in his last body. He cringed at the thought all over again. "So, I'd imagine, they assume I want to kiss them too, but they never asked me… I didn't want to kiss a lot of them if I'm perfectly honest… some would throw themselves at me, leaving me no escape! I'd stand in surrender-"

In his ramblings, he hadn't noticed Clara lean closer until her soft lips were snug tenderly upon his.

His tentative hands snaked their way from her waist to her back, pulling her near. But she halted his advances, placing her palms to his chest. Ignoring his evident want to kiss her, and her own to kiss him, she had to ask, "Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Oh. Well, Clara. I think that- I, um…"

_'Actions speak louder than words!'_ his conscience announced. And he agreed. The clever Time Lord could manipulate his tongue to twist and turn around the most complicated of sentences with such ease when discussing technical TARDIS jargon or outwitting some monstrous alien species, but as soon as he had to verbally express a nice feeling, such as _this_ feeling, it refused to cooperate. If he kissed her exactly how he wanted to, he could simply show her what she meant to him. Wouldn't that be enough?

His thoughts returned to the moment, standing in this woman's arms, her waiting for his next move, but she began talking again.

"You caught me by surprise earlier. I had no idea you felt that way. I didn't know you could, or would, let yourself. You get so nervous over these things."

"I thought, if it was my last chance to, if I never saw you again, I thought I should tell you in some way that I cared."

"I know, Doctor," she said while her fingers left a quiver through his veins as she grasped a soft and loving hold of the hair at his nape. "I know you're struggling with the right and wrong, and I know what you're like, but it's just me - you don't need to be shy around me. If this is going to happen, I want to hear it first. You could hold me forever and kiss me a billion times a day, and however amazing, yet impractical that would be, a girl likes to hear those special words. We're difficult like that," she said with a chuckle.

The Time Lord smiled at her words. Girls are indeed, very difficult - he knew that much. Letting out a ragged sigh, he began, delicately, pouring his hearts out. "My Clara, my little enigma… your irrefutable beauty, your irresistible charm… those dimples," he'd paused, softly prodding her cheeks when she smiled. "All of your passion, the strength of your mind; they're all such marvellous qualities that I cherish, so dearly, and are a mystery enough." Once the nerves subsided and the Doctor got going, the words rolled effortlessly off his tongue. "I can't tell you how many Wednesdays I've skipped ahead as soon as you leave. Yet, I love to miss you."

She nodded in reply, understanding him indefinitely, and defying a tear to roll down her cheek as she listened.

"You can appreciate that I get lonely, being the last. So I travel - that's what I do. Most of the time, I travel with a friend; all of those wonderful friends of mine, they come and go," he said, and he paused, his voice cracking through the words and the memories. Each and every one safe in his hearts, no matter where they may be across space, across time, they'd never leave him. "I have some of the very best friends a man could wish for. They loved me, looked after me, they made me their family. Two hearts isn't enough for that amount of love, y'know Clara," he chuckled. "And my dear, I can't deny that you are very pretty."

She felt her instincts kicking in to comfort the delicate man in-front of her, and pulling her sleeve over her palm, she held of his chin with her other to pat his eyes dry. "Oh, you soppy thing, what am I gonna do with you?" Clara had never pictured the Doctor like this. Like some lovesick puppy. Her hands cradled his face, giving it no second thought to what they wanted, with all they felt for each other administered in another simple, sweet kiss.

It was the beginning of everything, the unexpected spark, the emotional pull towards someone wonderful.

A quiver in their hearts, that began at their lips and ended at their toes, chased their emotions, searing through their bodies like lightning crackling across the sky. The usually flailing limbs had found their place around the girl they encased. This was where they belonged, holding his Clara. With crafty hands drifting towards her hips and crawling up under her cardigan to sail over up her back, he felt as though his past incarnations were cheering him on like youths in a park - though he knew some would find his actions improper. His first face he could see scowling in disapproval. But he didn't care, as fingertips stroked her ribs.

Though, Clara was surprised by his eagerness. "Doctor?!"

"Call me by my real name," he breathed, finding a sweet spot to kiss by her ear.

The unimaginable pleasure was too much to ignore, but really, how was she meant to do that? Before she could question him, and not really wanting to stop his lips at her neck, he sent her an image - a book.

_'My name, it's in there. Everything, in-fact, is - it's all in this book. Open it!'_

"But I don't want to know your name." She really didn't.

Looking into her eyes and seeing nothing but hesitation, the Doctor questioned her. "Why not?"

His upset almost broke her. She treaded carefully, chose her words wisely, and replied with a light giggle to ease the tension she didn't want growing between them. "Because I can't take that from you; it's private."

"You're not taking it if I'm giving it," he said, and pressed his forehead against hers, willing her to look. _'I need you to - please.'_

"It's okay, I don't need to know."

_'You'll understand if you look - please trust me.'_

Clara paused and sighed, asking him, "Are you sure?"

_'I'm positive.'_

The leather bound book thudded to the base of their minds. It was large, heavy, and looked incredibly old but also untouched and immaculate. Pages flew back and forth as she hunted for his name within.

In the meantime, Clara wondered how things would pan out for their time together. Will he become clingier? Make extra trips every other day to check up on her, instead of waiting for Wednesday? Would she become clingier? Pine for him all week until the doorbell chimed… and what about Artie and Angie? Oh, they'd have a field day! Then the cheeky ideas she'd sometimes have about the Time Lord crept into her mind… Would she stay on the TARDIS more often? What about bedroom arrangements? What did he even look like down there…?

She shook those thoughts away; she was getting way ahead of herself!

Thankfully, in that moment, she saw his name. Clear as day, the words that she'd never expected to be told. It was written in Gallifreyan but, without questioning why, and no query of how, she spelt it out under her breath.

"Is that your name?"

The Doctor was already grinning brightly when Clara's eyes found his again. "Yes!" He replied with fresh tears at his lashes. Hearing his name being spoken sweetly and eloquently, it left him feeling ecstatic. "It's been so long! Thank you! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you," he repeated his appreciation.

Clara held him tight whilst being joyously swung in a circle. "All this time, I thought you were just embarrassed by it; could have been worse," she laughed. Enjoying the kisses he left on her skin, she softly hummed her approval at the attention her cheek was getting. "But it's beautiful. Why do you never use it?" Realising what she'd just uttered, afraid he'd assume she was prying, she quickly apologised. "Oh, no! I didn't mean- forget I said that!"

The alien paused, and his trail of kisses ended by her earlobe. He pulled away, trying to figure out how best to explain that, "Telling you this much is enough for now, I think. I just wanted the next time I heard my name to be for a good reason, not its real reason…" He lost her gaze for a split second, until he took hold of her face and said, "Now you know, I beg you never repeat it to another soul; living or otherwise."

His eyes bore through hers with such sincerity she'd only seen in dire situations.

"I won't."

"You have access to not only my thoughts, but eventually my past and, well… all those annoying little secrets I have to keep will be open to you, bit by bit. I don't know how long it'll take or what will be exposed, or in what order; I'm not in control of it, but I trust you Clara. Do you understand?"

She nodded, tightening her grip around him. "Yes Doctor, I do, and I'm glad you trust me - I trust you too."

That familiar, reassuring smile grew over his face as their cuddling continued. He felt the warmth of her, like a Clara shaped hot water bottle, she felt perfectly cosy. Now there'd be no more secrets, no more questions.

Apart from one little thing…

"Will you tell me how this telepathy, _malarkey_, works now?" Reusing his fantastic new word, her face shone, beaming up to his bemused expression.

He did find her persistence endearing. "Time Lord telepathy must be intended with physical contact with another species, or at least with humans, like so-" The Doctor reached for her temples, pressing them gently with his middle and forefingers, before removing them to hold her hands.

She watched him intently as he continued in her mind.

_'But then there are times it just happens, it's automatic, a natural connection or a bond, if you will, when feelings are so strong between pairs who are… are, um-'_

"Are what?" She encouraged.

How could he tell her without being punched or slapped? The girl had a tendency to do both when he overstepped a line.

"Firstly, my dear, just so you know, this is still scaring me just as much as it may scare you."

"What are you talk-?"

And he placed a finger over her lips to abruptly shush her. He hadn't finished speaking.

"Secondly…" It was on the tip of his tongue, though he paused at the realisation he was unable to utter another word.

After an anxious wait for him to continue, she reassured him, holding his hands to her heart. "Please tell me what you're talking about."

The alien felt hot under the collar and squirmed on the spot before he swallowed through a dry throat. It was rather painful. "Well, like I mentioned earlier, this isn't supposed to happen between a Time Lord and human. It was extremely rare. So rare in-fact, the Time Lords used to say…" And off he drifted onto a tangent. "… and I didn't even know this could be an option for me. I thought it was some sort of Gallifreyan bedtime story, a fanciful tale of Time-boy meets Earth-girl…"

Clara frowned at him. "Doctor."

"Yes?"

"You're rambling."

"I am?!"

"Yes. Look, whatever this _thing_ is, we'll deal with it together. Don't we always? Baby steps, remember? I'm totally prepared," she smiled at him.

Watching her pretty face, wanting to savour the moment before the inevitable swat, he rallied up the confidence needed. "When feelings are strong between those who're naturally connected, well, they end up as… _soul-mates_." The Doctor winced as he muttered the last word, not wanting to admit it to himself, and least of all to her. The idea of making her think he was trying to rush something, anything, between them was incomprehensible. But she told him she was prepared, it was out in the open now and he was ready to defend himself from the onslaught she may have had to throw at him. Prepared or not, he took precautions at every turn.

But the young thing in-front of him softly stroked her thumbs across his knuckles, and her eyes twinkled. "Soul-mates? Like those in some gushy, romantic novel?" A pleasant sensation swept through her body while she digested that nugget of information. "And why would that scare me?" She asked after a moment of deep thought that the Doctor kept well away from.

He nibbled at his lip, replying in his awkward way, "We don't have to talk about that right now. There's plenty of time for all that. And besides," he paused, flailed, unconvincingly dispelling any evidence he was already head over heels for her, "we, we uh… we need time to- to, y'know… fall in love, and it's clear we like each other Clara, but we should- love is very complicated stuff, and we can talk about all the necessary things when- well, when we're much more acquainted with each other." His typical reaction when this emotion was the topic of the moment: talk about anything but, and put it off until later. "And then, of course, there's-"

Clara cut in with another soft kiss. Though she was evidently a little flustered over the idea too, she had to put a stop to his waffling and flailing. She pulled away to brace herself, her voice dropping low, matter-of-factly stating, "I already love you, you daft old fool - I guess that's half way to being in love."

Over the months they'd been travelling, it really was only a matter of time until they were getting cosy anyway. This was just an enormous shove to get the ball rolling, and while their cuddles and snuggles were strictly to relax, for comfort, after escaping death for the umpteenth time, he'd recently adopted the gentlemanly offer of a peck on her cheek before she'd say goodnight, besides all the times he'd take her hand and treat her with another beautiful galaxy or era. The sweet gestures he didn't think she'd notice anyway, his subtle attempts to court her. And Clara couldn't get over the warm, fuzzy feeling she'd get when she fell into his gaze while he'd explain something a million miles an hour, something so complicated and alien that she'd just take the time to admire him instead.

And now she'd confessed her love for him.

Mulling over the minutes that had passed, she wondered why he wasn't saying anything. How many had there been? Three? Four? Had she said the wrong thing? The dread kicked in as she counted another minute, and then his soft voice grabbed her attention.

"I love you too."

For a change, she couldn't speak. She couldn't even blink, continuing to stare at his fetching bowtie a while longer until her thoughts were turned into words and she flicked her eyes to his for just a split second. "Are you serious?"

"Not all the time," he replied. She giggled in that certain way that made his knees weak. "But I am right now, yes." The Doctor brought her hand to his lips to kiss. When she made no attempt to look up, he rested his knuckle under her chin, lifting her gaze to his to tell her, sincerely, from the bottom of his hearts, "Clara Oswald, I _am_ a very daft and very old fool… and I love you."

Clinging tightly to her handsome Time Lord while he performed a dance around the library, she couldn't imagine anywhere she'd rather be.

"Well Doctor, where shall we go now?"

"Oh Clara, I know the perfect place!"

* * *

**Upon reading through the entire chapter and titivating parts, I am happier with the second half than the first half of it, though it's still not my favourite.**


	5. Show me the Stars

**I'd forgotten how much gushy, silly soppiness I'd included in this story…**

**Anyway, please enjoy.**

* * *

**Five**

"Are you decent?" The Doctor called from the landing, knocking his knuckle, crisply, three times on Clara's bedroom door.

He got a reply. A sleepy, muffled groan in actual fact. "Mhmm…"

Beaming excitedly, giddy like a child at Christmas, he waltzed right in. Promptly shielding his eyes, the Doctor blushed profusely at the sight in-front of him. "Clara, you're in your underwear!" he shrieked.

"It's a bed top, you idiot." She threw him a blind smirk, stretching out her rested body. It wasn't as though her chest was fully exposed from her nightwear. She giggled at him, "I'm covered up - you're safe to look."

He peered between his fingers to be sure she meant it, and stepped closer to her window, opening the curtains.

Clara squinted through the rays of a new sunrise pouring in her room, and glanced up to her clock. 5:18am. "What do you want at this ridiculous hour? And, how'd you even get in the house? The front door is locked."

"Point one. It's a surprise!" He announced; his boyish excitement crept back into his voice and posture. "Point two. The TARDIS _may_ have materialised in the bathroom." The facial expression that came over the old alien showed he knew full well that wouldn't please her… or Mr Maitland.

Clara patted for him to take a seat on the bed next to her, replying, "Well, you're lucky."

"I know I am!" He always felt lucky. But then he frowned, realising he had no idea what she was talking about. "No I don't. Why am I lucky?" Contemplating the offer to sit down, because he was more than a little concerned he wasn't about to be clobbered or slapped or swatted or…

"George and the kids are on holiday while they're on half term - something about it being educational for Artie's schoolwork, and Angie put up a fight-" she paused to yawn, and gave him a cheeky grin. "Basically, no-one's gonna tell you off for your terrible parking skills this morning!"

"Hey!" The Doctor pouted, accepting that offer now he knew he was safe, and lightly poked her bare arm. "I've piloted that ship for over 900 years, I'll have you know!" He got himself comfy on crossed legs, sitting back against the wall, coaxing Clara to sit up with a tug of the arm he'd poked.

"And still ten feet is tricky?"

"Oi! That's enough, young lady," he chuckled along with her. He couldn't pretend to be annoyed, and huddled her close. "Now, something's amiss."

"What is?"

"I haven't said hello yet." And he pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

"Hello to you too," she replied, nuzzling into him. "So, what's this surprise? Why have you got me up so damn early?"

"Is it early?" His brows furrowed at the silliness of time in a straight line, and got her watch shoved in his face. "Ah, I'm so sorry! It isn't as important as your beauty sleep." The bumbling alien watched the level of teasing offence wash over Clara's face, and he raised his hands to clarify, "Which you certainly don't need any more of, my dear!"

Her lips twitched to giggle at him. "My surprise…?"

"A trip to the stars!"

"Mhm?"

"To the, uh… to-" The Doctor paused. The warmth against his chest, the comforting weight of his young lady-friend's body, he came over flustered at her proximity while she was wearing so little… on her bed… all alone in the house. He shook the thoughts from his head.

"Yes, Doctor?" The little brunette sighed, laying an arm around his waist.

"There's a, uh… a cluster of stars. I wanted to show you them," he managed to say, painfully aware of her adorable, sleepy state against him, and her human-y morning scent, that filled his advanced alien nostrils, made his head spin and his hearts skip. "They put on this light show, every three and a half thousand years, rather like hundreds of colourful disco balls throwing glistening rainbows into space." And he reminisced, "I came across them by chance a long time ago in the future…"

"Sounds lovely," Clara said in a tone that was gradually becoming a distant whisper as she fought sleep.

What a fool he'd been. He regretted his initial arrival, ignoring all Earth clocks before disturbing her. "But, I can come back later - I should let you rest."

Clara could feel a hand glide over her arm, which she quickly shifted, holding him tighter, as though signalled by his attempt to retreat from the cosiness between them.

"Stay…"

* * *

The old Time Lord watched the clock on the wall tick along casually to 6:30, and he looked down to the girl in his lap. His fingers tangled, loosely, in her hair, stroking and comforting her as she slept. The man who flitted about space and time, never one to be held down, never one to sit still, was rendered motionless under his Clara - and he had no objections, unable to believe he'd ever want to move again, not after this, not after he'd watched her fall under a spell at his touch against her cheek, and certainly not after the whisper of love she'd blessed him with as she curled up in his arms.

Her duvet was tucked around them both now, leaving him with no more shyness of holding her barely covered body - _'save that for next time'_, he said to himself.

In his state of bliss, watching her softly breathing, he wondered what she dreamt of. The few times his head ever hit a pillow, his dreams and nightmares were experienced while he was awake. Inquisitively, a little selfishly, he tried to tempt a thought or two from her mind.

It seemed hazy at first, and then a rainbow emerged. He believed his words of the star cluster had her dreaming of the idea, until she sent him an image of reindeer and a big, jolly looking gentleman carrying a sack on his back.

_'Santa! She's dreaming of rainbows and Santa! How quaint; how very Clara.'_ The Doctor beamed, closed his eyes, and marvelled at her pictured memories of childhood, Christmas with her parents, presents strewn all around the great, glistening tree in the corner of the room. A happy little brown-haired girl sat picking at sellotape holding together pretty flowered wrapping paper around a box. Inside, a teddy bear jumped out to dance with the little girl.

But the image darkened.

_'What's this?'_ With a tad of worry, the protective alien stroked his human's hair slightly firmer, hoping the comfort would deter any nightmare that may occur.

Where the cosy Christmas-filled room occupied the space in her thoughts, he saw her teenage-self standing in the middle of her darkened mind, after a frantic dash to and fro in desperation to see a familiar face. The image suddenly grew black, and the world she'd created in her sleep fell apart…

"Mum!" Her cry broke the silence, and she sprang from the Doctor's lap, being expertly caught by him again, preventing a fall to the floor.

"Clara, it's okay. It's okay," he soothed her, gripping her for dear life against his chest.

The Doctor, quite rightly, felt sickly ashamed of intruding in her deepest thoughts when she wasn't aware, but he was somewhat glad he had done, finding one piece of information she had yet to tell him of, and probably never would under normal circumstances. Ever the courageous Clara, she couldn't let her guard down. He wouldn't ask, he couldn't probe again, and yet he had to protect her if she continued to stay with him in the TARDIS. Maybe she wouldn't tell him, and maybe she felt vulnerable if she did, but with all the dangers of his life, of space and time travel, there were some things he should probably know.

"I'm so glad I have you. Sometimes I get these flashbacks. Sometimes I wake up in cold sweats and I'm disorientated and everything is a blur…" she explained. Tainted with tears of fear, loss, and now relief, her lips pressed against his.

"There's no need to excuse your feelings. Bottle them up and, well, you'll end up like me. You know you can talk to me about anything, don't you? I know how it feels. I've been lost too. So many times…"

"How- how did you know that's-?"

"Oh, I'm very clever," he interrupted with a smug grin at not being smacked for being sussed out, and instead, received a sweet smile.

"What happened?"

"Well, the last time, I was so very lost…" And his story began. "It was Christmas, and I'd taken residence upon a cloud-"

"A cloud?!"

"A cloud," he reiterated. "And I'd lost everyone, and they'd lost me. I gave up hope of being found again to the point I stopped caring. I felt beaten, cheated, ridiculed. The universe had taken its last joke out on me, but you know what?"

"What?"

"I found someone to prove me wrong."

She waited for him to elaborate, but the tension was too much in those few seconds he'd stopped speaking. "Who was that?"

"A girl."

"Oh, really?" She smirked.

"Really!" He beamed, and pretended the crystal clear image of her Victorian echo was a mere vague memory. "Let's see; how did she look? She had… long dark hair…" Running his fingers through hers, he gazed helplessly into her, "big brown eyes." His voice faded to a whisper as he kissed his Clara. _'She had a wonderful sense of adventure, was so very brave…' _The soppy Romeo laid a hand to his Juliet's cheek, drawing her in. _'But she was impossibly feisty, a feline you could say.'_ The Doctor pulled back, looking into Clara's eyes. "And she made me remember myself, who I am, and what I do."

"And what we do," she smiled, realising who he was talking about. He'd spoken of her echoes briefly, but never where, never how. Little secrets he was beginning to express to her and things she was feeling in her mind from his.

"Exactly."

As they gazed, a rush of heat hit her cheeks, noticing how his eyes were taking her in. Every single cell in her body, she could feel ignite as the bashful Time Lord she was sat on reached for her hips, pulling her closer still, wrapping himself up in a Clara blanket, impossibly contented.

Finding his move adorable, she thought she could stay in his embrace forever, if it wasn't their Wednesday, and reluctantly broke the romantic, and not-so-much-awkward-but-eerily-sensual, silence. "Where's this cluster of stars then?"

"About eleven billion light-years from Earth. We'll have to travel to 2318, March to be exact, to catch the spectacle in action. Or we could always go back to see the last one?" He offered. "And I'll treat you to an extra trip to Earth in that year - how does that sound?"

She pondered, taking the time to enjoy the feeling of his double beats against her single beat as she decided.

The future or the past?

To see Earth three thousand years ago would be a marvel. Bringing creatures back to life that'd become extinct by her time, and visiting lands where cities and towns now stood - nature in the purest form. But the prospect of seeing something no-one could know about until it arrived - the future. The technology, the sciences, and the growing population of new and exciting species being discovered were all tempting her to dive straight in.

Looking deep into his eyes, as though he would give her a clue at what would be the most thrilling, she knew he'd probably seen everything there was to see. He'd seen stars forming and worlds collapsing, keeping his enthusiasm and nerve through it all, yet there was always something new to him.

"I'd like to go to the future."

"Aha! My favourite!" He grinned, holding her tight around the waist and hoisting her as he carried her out the room.

"Doctor!"

Her shrill had his face wrinkle in shock, dropping her to her feet to stick in his fingers in his pained lugholes.

"Blimey, you can shout! What is it?"

"Sorry, it's just, well…" She looked down to her tiny vest and shorts combo. After taking her to Kep in only a skimpy nightdress the week before, she was sure to not let that happen a second time.

"Oh! Of course. You'd best get changed, dear."

Clara left a peck on his cheek, letting him know she wouldn't be long, and slipped back into her room, closing the door behind her.

* * *

It took her a couple of minutes to tidy her hair and another few to apply her make-up just enough. She hadn't been timing… No, no, no. No. Never.

Hmm?

Well, maybe a young woman has these things down to precision whenever her love visits? Clara called it an instinct, not wanting to keep her Time Lord waiting, which amused her to no end.

After pulling on her boots and grabbing her bag from the door-handle, she flew down the stairs, eager for another day to start, and noticed the alien sitting in the kitchen as she turned to check herself in the hall mirror.

"Doctor, that's not food!"

He dropped the small, crinkled flake of potpourri back into the bowl, being so close to placing it on his tongue. The curiosity took over quite instantly, and he picked it up again, giving it a sniff. "It smells like food."

"Yea, and it'll taste revolting, trust me… drunken night in with my friends once - mistook a bowl of this stuff for crisps and twiglets. Spent half the early hours of the morning with my head down the- leave the bloody thing alone!" She swatted his hand to drop another piece, finding it difficult not to laugh at his weird and wonderful ways. "What you doing in here anyway? Thought you'd be in the TARDIS."

"Waiting for you, of course. And I got bored in there - this house is much more fun!"

"Ugh, you've been in the garage again haven't you?" Clara whined, rubbing her forehead in slight distress. "Seriously, that quadricycle was great, the pair of them loved it, but did we really need the motor-powered, triple-spindled, _"because three is a cool number"_, unicycle?"

"It wasn't my fault Artie ended up in that old lady's hedgerow!" The Doctor challenged her, and stepped from the chair. Finally seeing how lovely she looked, he retracted all emotion but admiration for what stood in the doorway.

The girl before him had her hair falling around her face and over her shoulders. The summery red dress she wore hugged her petite frame perfectly, while her cream cardigan brought out the magnificence of her deep brown eyes.

"You look beautiful."

"Thanks," Clara replied. She couldn't prevent her burning blush. Whoever could? And she offered her elbow in an old-fashioned manner, trying to prize him from his daze. She watched his determination to admire her a little longer. "Well, are we off, or are you just going to stand there all day making cute, puppy-eyes at me?"

Taking hold of her arm, the alien flustered with his words. "Yes! I mean no! I mean-"

She chuckled, interrupting him with a tug towards the front door. "Come along, Doctor."

* * *

"Now, my dear, whilst I set coordinates, sit here," the alien began, and perched his love on a big black seat. "Keep looking beautiful," he continued, placing a tender tap of his fingertip to her nose. "And we'll be there soon."

Twisting himself around the console, jabbing his digits at various buttons and easing the levers up and down and left to right, the Doctor reminded Clara of a magician conjuring up his most impressive and intricate of tricks. She was ready for streamers and confetti to fly across the open space, for bunches of flowers to sprout from the floor, and for a little herbivore to be pulled from his fez, anything to make the image of her Time Lord more magical.

Then they were in flight.

"You should really get seatbelts for this thing!"

The Doctor simply laughed as he grabbed the back of the seat Clara was sitting on. She had a very good point, he believed, as he fought to keep upright.

As soon as they landed, he took all necessary precautions, checking and double checking the monitor. "Wonderful! Oh, this is perfect!" He was rather proud that he'd actually flown the old girl exactly where he wanted to go. "Thank you, dear," he said, stroking the ship lovingly.

Just then, a small cough behind him had him flinch.

Sarcasm tickled Clara tongue as she asked, "Want me to step outside while you two have a moment?"

"Oi, stop it!" The alien flustered and straightened his bowtie. "Anyway, I believe I brought you here for something spectacular!" Taking her hand and telling her to close her eyes, the Doctor walked Clara to the opening doors. "I'm guessing you've never seen rainbow disco balls in space…"

"You'd be correct."

He held her shoulders, walking her closer to the edge of the doorframe, being her eyes for a minute or two longer. "Step up," he instructed softly in her ear, and she stepped out of the TARDIS onto what felt like cobbles. "And again… now just- hey, I can see those peepers, young lady!" With a hand lain over her eyes, another few hesitant shuffles forward, he whispered, "Now stop."

Clara smiled, patiently waiting, though felt a mixture of nerves and excitement, trying to imagine what it may look like, how she may react to the sight, and how in the world she was breathing if she was meant to be in deep space. She assumed they'd landed on a planet with an Earth-like atmosphere, and then wondered why it'd suddenly gone eerily quiet and still around her.

"Doctor?"

"Hold on a sec," the Doctor acknowledged, and fiddling with his sonic, turned to aim the gadget at the TARDIS. She began to fade into the nothingness, and he smiled, thankful it'd worked. He wanted Clara to get the full experience with no spaceships blocking the view, much like a bunch of buildings spoiling a dazzling sunset. He then lifted his hand from her eyes, her cue to open them, and he took a step back, letting her have it all to herself, but her hand reached round, willing him to hold it.

Unsure if the contact she needed was for comfort or stability, she forced their fingers to entwine just to have him close, and something stirred in her view.

Against the bluish black of space, there shone a scattering of hundreds, maybe thousands of stars in the span of what she could only call the horizon. Some were up high, some were laying low. Some smaller than others, which she assumed meant they were simply further away. Some slowly spun, some performed a dance, and some hopped up and down as they all started to throw soft light into the darkness. These colourful lights spoke of the palest creams, pinks and greens, to the darker purples, reds and oranges before their eyes - a kaleidoscope of hues shocking their senses.

It was so pretty, so magical, and all Clara thought she would be given when the Doctor held her close from behind, but he was holding her still to watch the main event unravel.

Instantly, the humming stars' movements increased. There began the perfect blend of byzantiums twirling into thistles, buffs exploding into burnt oranges, and her heart raced witnessing indigos and sapphires fighting for dominance before bursting simultaneously, allowing soft teals to steal the spotlight. The sounds they produced were incredible to her ears, as though orchestrated by reggae drumbeats, the soft thrum of bass guitars, of crashing cymbals, and the oddly placed jingle of triangles.

Nothing could spoil this show.

Another shift in the line-up and at least a third of the stars fizzled out with a crack and a zip like fireworks. A sizzling sensation overwhelmed the couple, feeling the ember-like dust float upon them. Clara imagined those particular stars were either very small, or the passion resonating within them was simply too much to handle and they could do nothing but shatter. She preferred the latter assumption.

The beginning of the end had the stars relax and pulsate to a calming pale turquoise, and as romantically as it had begun, it ended.

Clara stumbled back against the Doctor's body in shock and awe. "That was…" Words escaped her as she let a couple of tears fall over her smile.

"I know. It's beautiful, isn't it? But there's just a little bit more." The Doctor turned his impossible girl to the preferred direction for one last surprise; the big finale.

The remaining stars suddenly shot across space above them, trailing hundreds of tiny rainbows in their wake. There came a soft flutter of stardust on the Doctor's shoulder, and he saw some land in Clara's hair just as she realised what was happening. She giggled and shook her head, making the dust float away.

"They're similar to shooting stars you see passing over on Earth, only these are made from splintered crystals that form in the colder parts of space," he explained. "The colours they produce are from the heat of the nearest sun, similar to rainbows during a storm, just with heat, not light. And then they wake up and begin to dance. The force of their travels through space makes the crystals splinter again, which gives the effect of a rainbow when they fly away towards that heat source," he concluded with his soft words in her ear. "You enjoyed it then?"

Giving him a casual shrug, she cleared her throat to tame the cry in her voice. "Was alright," she said, and then chuckled, grinning from ear to ear as she turned and flung her arms around his neck. "That was breath-taking."

The old romantic's first priority was to make her smile, keep her happy. He'd invited her to see so much, and still everything his own eyes had seen couldn't match the sight of Clara's face lighting up at something new and something rare. And now they were on top of the universe, watching a sight nothing could have prepared her for, and he was pleased to show her such wonders, proud to impress her with the immense beauty her universe had to offer. He also enjoyed to be thanked, afterwards, in cuddles.

"How come we're breathing out here?"

"Ah, an excellent question, my dear. The TARDIS gave us a bubble to walk into."

"Makes total sense."

The alien grinned, sensing her familiar sarcasm. "She's giving us oxygen, filtering air all around us."

"And what are we standing on?" She asked, viewing their platform.

"It's an asteroid!"

"It's cobbled?" She observed, toeing the rock beneath her.

"Yes, some seem to have a cobbled effect out here."

"Okay, next question - how?"

"The TARDIS sort of… _borrowed_ it!" The alien hoped it was winning her over, all his clever tricks. "We're standing in stasis in its orbit around, um…" He cut his words short to pan the view. "That planet over there," and he pointed out to the far right. "Clever, eh? Even has its own moon." He was chuffed when he saw the smile she gave him, and glanced round to find the glimmer of his ship, forgetting which side he'd parked her on. "Oh, and the TARDIS is currently invisible."

"She can do that too?"

"I tell you she can lasso an asteroid and you don't raise a quizzical brow, but you question the fact she can become invisible?!" He smiled at her little shrug. "Well, she'll likely stay that way if I can't- aha! There you are!" He shot his sonic screwdriver in the ship's direction, and a marbled effect washed over her wooden edges, bringing her back into view. The Time Lord turned to his Clara and held out a hand. "Earth awaits, my dear."


	6. That Wednesday Feeling

***breathes a sigh of relief* I almost lost the newest version of this chapter, since my laptop did some kind of update while I was asleep and restarted itself! Hate when it does that, but I do tend to leave my laptop on when I go to bed. Luckily it had automatically saved itself on Office. Phew!**

* * *

**Six**

_Am I just a dozen men, or do you really see me?_

* * *

"2318 would have been a fantastic year to visit Earth…" the Doctor sighed, distantly focused on the screen in-front of his face. He shook his head and grumbled to himself that they'd ended up in 2013 again.

"At least you got it right for the light show," Clara tried to encourage him.

"I suppose - she's still so funny about timing." The alien stroked the console of his ship, and noticed something on the monitor. "Uh, we've arrived the same Wednesday we left…"

"Oh, that's ideal! The kids aren't due home until this evening; you can stick around for a bit in safety," she smiled at him.

"Well-"

"Well, what?"

Just then, two terrors burst through the TARDIS doors.

"Hi Clara! Hi Doctor!"

"Where have you been?"

"Can we go somewhere?"

"Wow! It's bigger than I thought it would be!"

"What's behind this door?"

A barrage of noise to their ears stunned them. Questions and comments were fired from all directions as the Maitland children ran around the ship, up the stairs, attempting to get through to the corridors, and skipped excitedly around the central column.

The Doctor gave Clara his sorriest expression once he'd peeled his gaze from the buttons below him. "It, um- it would be Wednesday evening, dear…"

* * *

A man and a boy, head-to-head in the toughest chess battle they'd ever faced - the winner got the last Jammie Dodger in the house.

"Your move, young man," the Time Lord smiled, ruffling Artie's hair.

"Are you really Clara's boyfriend?" The lad asked after moving his knight, catching his opponent off-guard.

"Artie!" The woman in question cried. "Again with this boyfriend obsession… you two need hobbies." Clara flittered about the kitchen, closing the dishwasher, putting the last plate away and fixed the tea-towel to the rail.

"Angie keeps telling me he is," Artie replied with a point of a digit towards his sister.

"It's getting more than obvious now," the teen smirked. "Well, it's obvious he _wants_ to be your boyfriend. He's here every week, without fail. He's here this evening… and he'd been getting here after we left for school…"

"How d'you know that?" Clara was confused at this revelation. The siblings simply glanced at one another with knowing smiles. "You sneaky little-!"

"Clara!" The Doctor finally spoke up, with a desperate smile in her direction, only to interrupt his companion's next word. _'We might as well tell them.'_

_'No! The pair of them bang on about it enough!'_

_'That almost sounds like you're ashamed of me Miss Oswald.'_

_'Of course I'm not, but you know what they're like.'_

The telepathic couple were oblivious to the siblings sat watching like hawks, curious to know what all the facial expressions and stares to one another meant.

_'School holidays mean they'll be here all the time, waiting for you to turn up - waiting for me to slip up!'_

_'Then, we'll take them out, distract them with… the seaside? Theme Park? A museum!'_

The flustered brunette huffed in frustration and marched out the room with the Doctor at her heels.

"What were they doing?" Artie asked his sister, under his breath.

"No idea - they're both weirdoes," Angie replied, rolling her eyes and brought her attention back to her magazine.

* * *

"You can't just distract those two, especially Angie! She's got these hidden wavelengths, just plucking away at our friendship, and she _knows _there's more to us than just travelling!" Clara began as she shut her bedroom door. Her fingers glided through her hair, and she paced around the Doctor to calm herself.

"And what's wrong with-"

"Everything!"

The Doctor knew he wouldn't bring her round by arguing, instead let her vent all she had to.

"I love taking care of them, and I can relate to their pain of having no mother around anymore; I could never replace that, no-one could. George is absolutely fine with a Wednesday, but what if it changes once he realises we're together?"

"It's only been a week, and how often do they make the assumption? They're just kids, they'll get over the novelty soon enough. And you'll still have a home, a job, and we'll still have us."

"What if, whatever this is… _fate_… what if fate got it wrong?"

"It didn't," the Doctor insisted.

"Did you overshoot this morning?" Clara asked, rather bluntly.

"What? No, of course not."

"Not even a visit?"

"No!"

"Then how can you possibly know?!"

The Doctor felt an ache in both hearts, and entwined his fingers with hers, keeping her close. "Because, y'see these hands? They were made to hold each other." He kissed her knuckles, and saw a tiny curl of her lips at the sentiment. "Why can't there be the Doctor and his _impossible girl_, travelling the stars in the _snog-box_?" His use of her nickname for his other beloved had her smile grow, however reluctantly.

But his efforts to reassure her hadn't defused her reservations, and a palm found that chin. "Besides what I just told you? Because of what you are, because of what you do."

"And we can do it together!" He beamed, excitedly. "We can do anything."

"But you see things, have seen things, and will see things that my species can only dream of. I live my boring, insignificant life down here on Earth while you play across time and dance between the stars. Really, what could I possibly offer you that you couldn't find a million times better elsewhere?"

"Clara, you can give me you. I can't find that anywhere else. And your life is not boring, it's not insignificant. Do you honestly believe I'd be here, right here, by your side, in your bedroom if-"

Her eyes widened in shock from their image of bliss as he reassured her of his love and devotion to her. "Oh my god, you're in my bedroom!" She hauled him across the carpet and shoved him out after she scrambled to open the door.

"Clara, I-" The door slammed in his face… "I'll see you in the TARDIS, shall I?" … and received a thud by his nose. "I'll take that as a no. Next week then?" He waited for a reply but got nothing. Defeated, the alien sighed, turned to the stairs, and snugged his hands into his pockets, ready to descend.

_'Damn it. Doctor, wait…'_

The little voice inside his head halted him in the middle of the staircase.

_'I'm sorry for taking it out on you.'_

_'It's okay - you're allowed. I won't take it to heart… or hearts, or-'_ He paused, hearing her giggle, and sat on the step below him. _'Y'know, if they find out now, it'll be easier on them too. They're only teasing because they're not sure. I think they'd be happy you've found a special someone.'_

_'You are indeed special. I just can't help fearing what will happen to us.'_

_'Baby steps, remember? We can work it out.'_

_'Oh, don't start quoting The Beatles again,' _she whined. _'It was bad enough being stuck on that submarine - you wouldn't stop singing that stupid song for weeks!'_

The Doctor's muffled, breathy laugh caught her attention through the door, and was echoed by her own little giggle. He turned to face the wooden barrier between him and his love, going over how upset and flustered she looked before being thrown out, and thought of that faithful smile he'd just beckoned to her lips.

_'Are we going to continue talking through the door? Because I miss that pretty face.'_

_'Such a charmer,'_ Clara smiled to herself. She skimmed her fingers through her hair and dabbed the moisture from under her eyes. She didn't know why she was crying. Maybe it was all the kids teasing every time he was around. She didn't know how much more she could take, though the fear dampened a little once she'd opened the door, finding her adorable, smiley Time Lord sprawled along the length of the stairs.

Taking a seat beside him, she kept her voice low to prevent eavesdroppers. "So… you meant all that, in there?"

"Every word," he confirmed, and held her hand as he had before, kissing it softly, lovingly. "You're my Clara. What more could I ever say?"

However, she still had so many questions to ask him, and adventure seemed to get in the way of a hearts-to-heart.

"But there's also the fact that you're going to outlive me, aren't you?"

He thought it over, nodding slightly. "Maybe so." Though she was probably right, this young woman was rather special in her reappearing in his life twice already. "It's always a possibility."

"Isn't it inevitable, Doctor?"

And he sighed, somewhat bitterly, diverting his eyes to his boots. "Okay, we're having this conversation now…"

"Yea, we are. We might as well, because I need to know I won't hurt you when I die."

"Of course it'll hurt, Clara. But lots of men lose their wives or girlfriends before their time," he protested. "And we cope with it; I coped with it, your dad coped with it."

"My dad had me. My dad had family and friends. Who would you have?"

The Doctor's eyes were solemn and raw with emotions he knew didn't need expressing, and as they flittered up into hers and away again, he heard the sigh that left his Clara.

"Exactly…"

"I'm happy to have you for a little while," he told her. The need in his voice and the longing in his grip on her hands made her heart yearn for him more than ever. He was crying out to her. "And if a little while is all I'm allowed, can I not have all the days you can give me?"

Another burning question overrode her mind and she blurted out, "What happens when you regenerate?"

The Doctor let go a heavy breath. This was hopeless. Clara was so _impossibly_ stubborn. The time spent with her, giving her everything he was, she still couldn't see him. And she wasn't just another ape to the alien - he saw her for who she truly was, at least for all he knew of her.

"Am I meant to fall in love with another you, with another man's face, with a new voice, with everything he is? What if he doesn't even like me?"

Letting her hand slip from his, the Doctor got up. Abrupt and temper rising, he replied, "Yea, I get it, Clara."

His tone startled and angered her, and she watched, bemused, as he rushed down the stairs.

She found him in the TARDIS, hiding under the console with his head in his hands, and she noticed his bowtie had been slung on the floor. Definitely pushed the wrong buttons if he'd let that go. But this wasn't the time to query the disregard to his fashion accessory. She'd grown a little angrier than necessary that he'd snapped at her, having a few more home truths for him.

"… And another thing, I'm not going to fawn all over you like those other girls, believing you're the be all and end all, because I know that's what you love about us!"

"Is that so?"

"It's exactly so! Do you not think I see it in your eyes or in your mind? You told me you've fallen in love before - faces and feelings you can't bear to remember anymore because it hurts! And since you've already lost me, my echoes, twice-"

The Doctor rose to his feet, snapping at her once again. "See, this-" he began, throwing an aggressive finger in the air, wiggling it back and forth, emphasised the issue between the pair of them. "This is why I should travel alone! Domestic!"

"Then maybe you should," she replied, coldly, shrugging her shoulders. "You should travel without me."

"No!" His hands found hers, apologetic in their tenderness. He let his thumb-tip touch the corner of her left eye, brushing away a stray tear. "No. I don't want to be alone."

"You can't keep losing us and not be affected by it! I'm giving you that option now before it's too late and you lose me again."

He shook his head, softening his haunting gaze upon her. "But it's already too late. Beyond any form of reason, Clara, I'm in love with you," his tender voice spoke. "Please don't push me away, because I don't think I could let you go even if you made me."

Admitting defeat, she let go a soft chuckle. No matter how many times she heard him say it, whatever her mood, she'd still melt whenever he would. "I know. You're far too stubborn. And you are the be all and end all, at least to me. You're _the most_ incredible man I've ever known, and you're so much more."

He knew he was winning her round with the smile she kept on her face. A brief kiss was shared as she laid her arms around his middle. It was forgiving, necessary… a relief. But a niggling inside broke the silence.

"I can feel the words in your mind. Tell me," Clara urged.

"I want to give you all of me, for as long as I'm able to, and if I regenerate-"

"When you regenerate," she corrected him, snuggling into his coat.

"If _or when_ I regenerate," he sighed, smiling down to her. "I'll still be here for you, and I'll still be your Doctor."

Everything he'd said that day rang in her ears, and he picked up on it. Sifting her thoughts to help her make sense of them, he ran backwards and forwards in her mind, searching for the questions she daren't speak for fear of hurting him, and giving her the answers he'd always want to keep from her. She was learning how to hide certain things from him, how to control her own mind, shutting necessary doors and keeping emotions at bay. But the Doctor was still so clever, so much better at this, and she felt him beckoning at a door.

"At first it was fun, really fun. All those special trips you'd spoil me with… but then everything Equos predicted for us. It's all been rushing around inside since then. My hormones running riot. Now it's becoming _real_; you're actually, properly serious about this, about us, aren't you?"

"I'm actually, properly serious. I have to be. We're meant to be together, and we'll deal with any hurdles when we reach them. But right now Miss Oswald," the Doctor started as he leaned forward and pressed his lips upon hers, _'I need to kiss it better.'_

_'Kiss what better?'_

_'Your pain.'_

* * *

The creak of the front door closing had Angie and Artie staring through the hall.

"They're coming back! Shh! Shh!"

Whispers flew all around and mutterings bounced off the walls.

"We know you're spying on us," Clara called out, followed by a couple of giggles. Looking to her Time Lord, she smiled, suggestively. "Wanna go back to my room and _cuddle_?"

Stopping her at the foot of the stairs, he blushed like a little school-boy, awkwardly beginning his question to understand, "Do you mean _cuddle_ as in-"

"Doctor-"

"It's just, I have this friend. Jack. Well, Captain Jack Harkness… his idea of cuddling didn't stop at-" His eyes widened at the very thought, a little discomfort in his posture as certain memories came back to him.

Curiosity - a very familiar feeling when around his man. She wasn't sure of the Doctor's sexuality, or what his sudden expression was for, but never asked. Not that it mattered to her, and she closed her arms around him, confirming it would be a, "Cuddle as in… a cuddle. It's just funny seeing that face you pull."

"What face?"

Clara's hand crept too close for comfort somewhere delicate on the Doctor's body, and he squirmed. "That's the one," she giggled, starting up the stairs. "Oh, I forgot to ask, would you like another cuppa?"

The flustered alien stood amazed and confused at the intimate way he'd been caressed, but soon his features lit up adorably at the offer.

* * *

Well, this was nice, sitting on Clara's bed again, but he had to admit he was a bit nervous this time. The thought of her lovely, sneaky palm touching his thigh was distracting him from reality, imagining all the other places he'd like her to run it.

"I thought hot chocolate would make a nice change," she announced at the doorway, walking in with a tray holding two mugs of yummy, sweet liquid, and the Doctor's winning Jammie Dodger. They hadn't got round to completing their game but Artie gave it up since the alien loved the biscuits more than he did.

"Ah, thank you," he said, trying to be polite by taking the tray from her. The smile she gave him had his cheeks flush with heat. Or maybe it was the steam from the mugs on his lap…

"Careful! They're hot!"

The Doctor hissed at the sudden scolding sensation, and handed the tray back to her. In a less-than-gentlemanly manner, the pained Time Lord rubbed his crotch to relieve the sting, however inappropriate it was for his young lady-friend to witness.

She smirked at his action, raising her drink to her awaiting lips, blowing it cool. "Should let me do that."

"Clara!" Realising what he was doing, he turned away, crossing his legs, defensively. The cheek of it! Suggesting something like that had his mind race with other things he may have said and done innocently, having her take it all completely the wrong way. "No I, most certainly, should not!" He continued to mutter under his breath, clearly objecting to the offer, though his clever brain was ticking over and processing the idea.

Clearing his throat, he held out a hand, silently asking for his mug as he lay back on her bed.

"Is _it_ okay now?"

"Yes," he grumbled into his oversized cocoa mug. "You are quite the devil, Clara Oswald."

"Devil, eh? I dressed as a devil for a Halloween party last year," she told him, pulling herself up on the bed to sit cross-legged next to her alien. "It was a great night!" Memories came flooding back to the tiny brunette. "I wore this little red dress, black heels, had a long swooshy tail, pointy horns, and-" Pausing to look at the Doctor's expression, Clara watched how his unblinking eyes stared at her chest. She threw a hand into his view to catch his attention. "Earth to Time Lord - do you read me?"

"Pointy, black dresses… what? Why're you staring at me like that?" He frowned, taking a sip of his drink.

"Could ask you the same thing; you were practically drooling!"

"No I wasn't! I do not drool over dresses and heels!"

"No, you're right. Just devil horns and tails, hmm?" Giving him a light elbow jab, Clara grinned, watching the way she made his childlike frown turn bashful. "Knew it."

Well, this was getting increasingly awkward. There was no way out of the hole he'd dug around him. He tried his best to ignore the giggling beside him, and concentrate solely on his hot chocolate, but a flick of his eyes to her wardrobe and back to his mug, he thought, _'Sod it; in for a penny, in for a pound'_.

"Have you still got the outfit?"

"Ooh, down boy."

Oh, why did he even ask? Giving himself a mental slap, he placed the mug to his lips. He'd never had those types of urges in this body. Scantily-dressed women and kinky accessories made him flustered, not frisky. And still the excitement overpowered him. The idea of his cheeky companion squeezed into a tight dress had his double hearts skip.

"Yea, I do still have it," Clara said, getting up to walk to her wardrobe, and the Doctor gulped, being brought out of his wandering imagination. "Not sure if it'll fit, however. I've lost a little weight since then." She sifted through the many items for the ones she was hunting for.

The Doctor could barely breathe, let alone move, when she crooked her finger at him.

"Hold… these…"

A pair of horns and a tail flew at his arms, which he failed to catch, dropping them to the floor but he swooped to pick up before she noticed.

"And this…" Throwing a red dress haphazardly over her shoulder, it draped across his head like a veil. Next she reached down for the heeled shoes at the base of the wardrobe. "And I'm going to need these as well," she ended with a smile, holding the heels out to him.

"What are you going to do with all of this?"

Clara chuckled at him, "You really are an alien, aren't you?"

* * *

Peeping through his eyelashes, the Doctor caught a glimpse of her shapely legs, and swallowed back a whimper he was dying to release as his gaze leisurely journeyed up and over her entire body, taking his time to admire her.

_'Wow'_, he thought to himself, and she blushed, hearing him. "I'm sor- I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologise. I'm glad you like it. It was fun to wear that night," she said, twirling a little to gaze at her back in her mirror. "Even more now."

Her cheeky little display made his face burn. All the things he wanted to say in that moment, damned if he knew how to get them out, instead he held his breath.

"Doctor, are you-" Shaking his shoulder gently, she suddenly felt concerned. "Are you breathing?"

"I have no idea," he answered her, with a faint rasp in his voice. A respiratory bypass system was extremely handy, and the Doctor was thankful of this trait whilst in the presence of his Clara in such an item.

Slipping the horns into his hair, sitting astride his knees, she tried to tempt him, "Well then, since you're not dying of oxygen starvation, and you've enjoyed seeing my outfit on… would you like to take it off me?"

"Blimey!" A squeal sprang from his throat as his entire body stiffened. Easing away from his devilish companion, and backing himself against the wall, the terrified Time Lord stammered, trying to respond. "I, uh… I think, Clara, my dear, I think I've enjoyed your lovely outfit enough for tonight."

"Precisely my point," she pursued. Nose-tip to nose-tip, Clara could feel the Doctor's rapid heartbeats trembling through his breath on her lips. All she wanted was to have fun with him, tease him a little, just to see how far he'd allow her to go. She'd let him run away if he tried, and he could quite easily lift her off him, but he never tried.

It wasn't conscious thought but pure instinct taking over when he pressed his lips to hers, still he flailed, not knowing where and where not to grab her, until her hands offered some assistance, placing them firmly at her waist.

Well, he did say in for a penny, in for a pound…

Clara's weren't the first pair of breasts he'd ever held, and it may have been over her dress for now, but he instructed everything in his body to calm down as he leaned over her, because he wasn't sure he wanted it to go any further. He wasn't sure he could, and reminded himself it was just a kiss… just a lovely, albeit boarding-on-obscene, kiss.

However, the sounds emanating from Clara astounded him. They were positively vulgar. Probably why he was enjoying them, and imagined this getting totally out of hand as the gentle movement her hips against his, and soft tugging at his flowing locks were heating him in ways he wasn't used to anymore.

They were supposed to be babysitting, supposed to be acting like responsible adults! The thought of being caught by the children was not what any of them would want. Kissing her like this was a lot of fun, dangerous fun, and he had to slow her down, distract her with another type of adventure.

He tore his reluctant lips from hers and tried to speak, but was reduced to giggles at her tickling fingers. "Stop it! You know I'm- stop it!" In a manner she seemed to like, he knelt over her tiny frame and grabbed her wrists, pinning them by her head. Breathy giggles came from both of them as they smiled to each other. "Now that I have you restrained, young lady… I need to ask you a very important question."

Clara wondered if something was finally clicking into place with her, seemingly, asexual Time Lord, and bit her lip to comfort the loss of his having been there.

How handsome he looked with his hair ruffled by her wandering hands, how his piercing hazel eyes made the hairs on her neck stand on end, how his lips were slightly moist and glistened in the sunlight through her window. All the tantalizing things he could ask at such a moment…

"Would you like to go dancing?"

A little miffed by his sudden change in priority, she had to ignore the fire within her being promptly put out. He had her pinned to her bed and _that's_ what he wanted to ask? Yes it was sweet, a typical Doctor-y thing to say, but the mild disappointment was blinding. She had her own ideas of dancing, and none of them involved the pair being on their feet!

Nevertheless, she let him continue.

"The TARDIS has a ballroom. I've not used it in years. Thought it would be nice to because… Clara, I want to court you."

"You want to court me?" Her brows deepened into her pretty brown eyes as she figured that comment out.

"Yes. I want to bring you flowers and dance with you and take you on dates - isn't that what men do on Earth?"

With their tiny bout of playtime officially over, though it was the furthest she'd got him touching her body, she knew she could entertain herself later when he brought her home, and she'd definitely need to. Realising he was waiting for her to reply, she chuckled at his request.

"Okay. You can take me dancing."

"Wonderful!" He kissed her cheek and stood to leave the room, before turning back. "I'll get everything ready while you…" He glanced over her dishevelled appearance. Knowing it had been his doing, he blushed, though offered a saucy wink in her direction. "Get changed…"

* * *

**Ooh, I made Clara a bit paranoid and then quite the minx at the end. Pointless, but always fun. Anywho, next chapter up soon.**


	7. Guilty Pleasures

**I've been writing like crazy to edit this chapter and remove certain previous naughtiness, and though I'm not entirely happy with it, it is what it is. There is still a 'mature' feel, but it isn't really. Although, there is a minor swearword used so beware of that.**

* * *

**Seven**

"_Heaven, I'm in heaven, and my hearts beat so that I can hardly speak, and I seem to find the happiness I seek, when we're out together dancing cheek to cheek,_" the Doctor quoted, singing softly, beautifully into her ear, emphasising the necessary lyric change.

Mesmerised by his very being, the swooning Ginger let her handsome Fred guide her slowly around the ballroom, swaying and gliding in no particular direction, following no particular dance. It was exciting to be courted, she thought. Different. Interesting. She lost all concentration while her madman acted so sweetly, that falling in love felt a relief. And only when he looked into her eyes and said her name did she return from her dreamy daze.

"Did you say something, Doctor?"

"I wondered, maybe, would you like to try something more technical?" He hoped she would. Being given a nod, he soon taught her the correct positions she should hold him in this next dance, with nods of his own. "Now take my arm there," he instructed.

"And this'll be a waltz?" She asked, steadying herself, as they slowly shuffled round.

"This'll be a waltz. At least, it'll be an attempt. But a little Strauss never hurt anyone."

"How did you learn this dance?"

"Carefully!" He yelped.

Apparently a little Strauss could, and Clara laughed at finding she'd accidentally stepped on his toes.

"I'm so sorry!"

Wincing, the alien replied, "There's no harm, dear. Try again. You're definitely getting the hang of it."

Clara took another couple of steps and wobbled, crashing into him. "Sure about that?"

"Maybe I spoke too soon?" The Doctor assumed. They slowed down and danced out of rhythm to help her catch up. "Now that foot," he told her, tapping her corresponding shoulder. "See, you're a natural!"

But right on cue, she tripped on one of his feet, launching into the safety of his grasp once again. "Don't say another word," she huffed, straightening up.

Frustrated at her seventeenth, eighteenth and nineteenth attempt, she stopped abruptly, took a step back to place a hand to her hip and scratch her head with her other, mulling over something in her mind.

The Doctor brought his braces back to his shoulders from where they'd been hanging by his sides, avoiding eye contact as he asked, dejectedly, "You're not having fun, are you?"

Clara took a deep sigh, collapsing into a sofa at the edge of the room. "No. I'm crap at this," she grumbled.

The Time Lord knelt by her side, held her hand, and he smiled to encourage her to try again as he said, "Okay, your choice this time - and it must be fun!"

She took a moment of thought, recalling the last time she'd actually known a dance. Childhood was a start, and shrugging her shoulders, told him, "I know the Macarena?"

He beamed at her suggestion. "Ah! Fantastic choice! I know it well. We had something similar on Gallifrey. Come on; up, up, up!" He said, dragging her reluctant body to its feet.

The rest of the evening was spent filling the ship with laughter and music.

* * *

The following month of Wednesday adventures were initially accompanied by the occasional spontaneous visit by the Maitland children excitedly begging for a trip to the stars, but once their dad arrived home from work, Clara would usher them out and bid the family a goodnight.

Tonight, with the ship parked on a breezy British beach, all was calm and peaceful for the couple relaxing in the largest lounge the ship had to offer. The Doctor was flicking through a romantic novel from the future on a sofa he was laid, Clara was reading along with him, nestled by his side, and some Rachmaninoff played in the background.

"… _Martin blew a solo kiss into the air for her at the balcony of her apartment, and waved goodbye._" The alien read, turning the next page. "End of chapter nine, and now for chapter ten!"

"Actually Doctor, enough stories for me," Clara said, pushing herself upright. "I'm gonna go shower, and when I get back I want another adventure before you take me home."

"Don't you want to find out what Martin was doing with Stephanie? How Margo is going to react?"

She just chuckled at him, setting a kiss upon his forehead. "You can read it to me later - right now, I really need to get cleaned up."

"Okay. You're the boss, my dear," the Doctor replied, helping her to stand.

"And don't you forget it," she joked, bending down to leave another peck on his face.

Between the door and the sofa was a soft peach-coloured rug laying across the wooden floorboards that she could feel between her toes and cushioning her soles as she walked. It was warm and comforting. She then stepped to the cold, hard wood, her feet instantly missing the soft textured rug, and she quickened her pace to her room.

* * *

The TARDIS loved to play games. She was quite good at them. Her favourite was 'How Fast Can I Annoy Clara Today?', so with the brunette away from the Doctor, the ship crept up on her.

Taking a left at the end of the millionth corridor she'd been down, that she was sure she'd walked already, Clara was tempted to just admit defeat and wait for the Doctor to find her slumped over in a sleepy, frustrated mess on the floor.

"At least take me back to the bloody console!"

She'd lost her room again, something she should be used to by now, and though her first thought was to use the shower, she'd gladly just crawl into bed from all the aimless wandering she'd done around the ship. While the Time Lord had one of his rare hour naps, she thought she'd get spruced up for their next trip to anywhere. But the TARDIS had very different ideas.

Another few corridors later…

"We could be friends y'know… we have a lot in common. Both love that silly man, though I get to snog him," she grinned over the fact. The ship hummed, disgruntled, and switched the lights off. "Oh, thanks a lot!" Clara cried, throwing her arms up in despair.

A soft green light then peeked through the darkness. To anyone else, it would've meant nothing. To Clara, this clearly meant, "You're jealous, aren't you?" And the green light shone a little brighter, pulsing like a heartbeat, making her intuition seemingly correct. She lay her hand to the wall beside her, and felt a minor shock to her palm. "Ouch! You cow!"

The TARDIS's giggle came out as a tiny buzzing bleep, and within that giggle was an envy still that Clara wanted to understand.

"Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you? Apart from, I don't know… he and I… we're a couple now. It's going to take some getting used to for us all," she said, pacing slowly up and down all she could see within the green glow. "I fell in love with him; he fell in love with me. Is it because you secretly are his mother?" She mocked, "I assure you, my intentions are honourable. We'll have a June wedding and the kids will go to the best schools. How does that suit ya?"

The ship grumbled again, and Clara could almost feel the quiver of discontent in the air.

Down the wall, the brunette's back slid until her bottom reached the floor with a soft thud. She stretched her legs out, crossing them at the ankle, and smiled. "We're also determined to protect him, stubborn even. I don't like him being out my sight all week, wondering what he's getting himself into by the time I see him again." She let out a chuckle that was halted by the TARDIS bringing a little light back for her. "Please may I have access to my bedroom now?" She asked, sweetly.

Behind her, the wall evaporated, and she wobbled off balance, falling to the carpeting in her room.

"Oowh!"

Clara stared up to the ceiling and gave a heavy sigh, "Thanks…" She lifted herself and walked to the en suite.

Being the first time that she'd do this in the TARDIS, it felt peculiar knowing the ship was more than likely going to spy and pull a handful of tricks on her - cover her towel in duck feathers, swap her shampoo with peanut butter, or flow sand over her instead of water - but as soon as the sprinkle of warm water touched her shoulders, there was no turning back. The warmth cradled her and gave her a welcoming shiver across her entire body. Lathering up her sponge, she closed her eyes and thought of her Doctor that afternoon.

His flustering would calm in time, she hoped. It would have to; no-one can be that awkward forever, surely? He was rather habitual of the behaviour, though there were times he'd take her by a surprise snuggle, pick her up and perch her upon the console, and a hand would caress her bare waist.

With her soapy fingertips gently tickling along her ribs, Clara echoed the way he'd caressed her just a few hours before whilst they'd laid on her bed, letting her hands journey up and over her chest. She tried to wash away the excitement but all this did was create a much greater need. Conscious of where she was, she kept her hands at bay, though her mind was free to fantasise, and fantasies of the Doctor were like reoccurring dreams with the same theme every time. She painted vivid images, ones of him laying his strong body above her, his teeth nibbling at her neck, and those eager hands exploring her curves. It was becoming too much and increasingly difficult to hold in the much-needed, "… _Doctor_…" Her breathing was ragged and rough as she tried to contain herself, and she snatched her sponge from the side to continue washing.

Outside, the man of her affections sat against her door. It was driving him insane being so close yet so far. Leaning his head back, he walked amongst her most tantalizing desires, and he listened and watched intently to each one. There was so much he'd never realised before, things she'd never told him, and he could understand why as they became filthier.

There was a punishing urge to reply, but he couldn't - he shouldn't. The Time Lord bit his knuckles to halt her name that was crawling over his tongue. A burning need to be with her filled his veins and he clenched his fists to his skull to stop from ripping her door open. The alien turned to kneel, pressing his forehead to the door, and his nails scratched the metal standing in the way of him and his love. There was nothing he could do but endure and enjoy all he was given.

He wanted to rush into the bathroom, scoop the young woman in his arms, hold her close, caress her skin, whisper sweet words in her ear, and to love her how he wanted to.

And, as if by a silent wish between them, the metal door vanished…

At the same time, Clara had walked out to her room to get dressed, flinging the damp towel across the back of her chair, when she gave a double take to the left, seeing the Doctor stumble from his knees to his chest, and quickly bury his face in his hands.

"Shit!" She cried, fumbling to get her towel wrapped around her nude figure again. "What the- Doctor, get out! I'm naked!"

The shamed Time Lord bound back up to his feet and offered, "Clara, I'm so sorry! Please let me expla-"

"I SAID GET OUT OF HERE!" Her scream deafened the room and made him cringe at the volume.

"Or I could do that."

Moving as swiftly as he could, the flustered Doctor legged it. Just as he flew into the console room, he shouted at the ship, "Why'd you go and do a thing like that?!" He listened to her reply, screwing his features at what he heard, flailing his hands to make her shut up. "Yes, yes. Fine! I shouldn't have been spying on her. Point taken - you win!"

A groan of the TARDIS around him made him stop in his tracks as he circled the central column.

"You were what?"

Placing his hands on the edge, he listened again.

"… You were trying to get us… together? Oi, I decide when I'm ready for- y'know… that sort of thing! Alright? Not you!" He flicked a switch by his rested hand to show he was in charge, and tightened his bowtie for no good reason. "She'll be on the warpath soon - better get prepared for regeneration."

* * *

With his pen lid chewed to pieces beside him, and several dozen scrunched up sheets of paper scattered about him, the Doctor mumbled his written apology word for word. It wasn't entirely comfortable to lie on his back on the hard floor, but he felt the discomfort helped in the punishment he'd set upon himself. As he read, he hadn't noticed the TARDIS warning him Clara was on her way in, showing her image walking along the corridor on the monitors.

"_… My deepest love, your Doctor._" He ended, just as a figure stood above him.

"What're you doing down there?"

His eyes widened, as did his mouth, trying to look less nervous as he was failing to hide. He didn't break eye contact with her as he shuffled round, and knowing it best to be in a grovelling position right now, he got to his knees - though it was an ironic reminder how he'd got in this mess. Holding out his finished work, he watched her eye it suspiciously, and she glanced at the mess he'd made with its paper friends, strewn everywhere. He flapped the white sheet out to her slightly, emphasising his need she read it. She sighed, removing her pocketed hands to take hold of the letter, and she cleared her throat.

Nibbling at his thumbnail, the Doctor hoped it'd be enough. His wounded-puppy expression was regarded a couple of times as her attention was distracted now and then, but then she'd never had him fall into her room while she was getting out the shower - it may take more than adorableness and heartfelt love letters for her to forgive him.

Clara folded the paper away after she finished, tucking it into her pocket, and crossed her arms while she looked at him.

He studied her face - no smile, no scowl, no nothing. He was wary. He knew he'd crossed a line, but in his letter he explained that he wasn't being the dirty old man she may have been thinking of him. He told her that he loved her, cared deeply for her, that he wanted to be with her - that's why he was there.

The Doctor watched her blink, and a palm came in contact with his face. Flinching away at the thought he was about to be slapped, he only found the touch was soft, giving him a little reassurance. Unsure, however, he looked up at her, searching her eyes for an answer. Clara leaned down, cupping both hands around his face, and kissed him. That was a pretty obvious, yet very confusing, answer.

"You're not- are you not mad at me?" He carefully asked. "I thought you would have been."

"Oh, I'm still mad at you," she answered with a smile. "And you have a lot of making up to do." She kissed him once more, leaving him baffled as she wandered away, giggling to herself. With a little glance in his direction, her eyes seemed to tempt him to follow.

Heading to Clara's room, he wasn't sure how, and neither was he sure why, but it was all finally beginning to click into place. He was changing and growing, discovering how to deal with those mildly lustful emotions in this body, and that evening proved there was more he needed. Standing by the doorway, he watched her eyes continue to call to him, calling to come in and be with her.

"Just so I completely understand…" he tentatively began.

"Yes?"

"Am I allowed to enter?"

Intent on replying with an innuendo, purely for her own amusement, she answered, "Doctor, you can enter anywhere you want to - everything's yours in this ship."

"You weren't saying that earlier."

"True. But if you wanted to be with me, you didn't need to sneak around. Now, come over here," she beckoned, watching him squirm, eyes dodging hers and glancing back split seconds at a time.

But he didn't resist, willingly sitting down next to her on the bed when her hand patted the spot. Their lips met instantly in a timid battle for dominance until he paved a trail of kisses down her neck.

Clara was enjoying the attention, and felt his hands at her waist, tugging gently at the material of her blouse. But she moved away, teasing the poor man and coaxing him to follow as she lay down. And he did, letting himself get lost in the moment for once, even if it was for nothing more than kisses. Her cardigan collar was pushed over her shoulder as he tasted every new piece of skin he was given, while an inquisitive palm edged up her thigh, and it made her whimper, flinching slightly to open her legs instinctively.

The alien worried he'd done something wrong, but Clara shook her head.

"No, it's fine. It felt good," she assured him, and not wanting to scare him off, made up a quick excuse. "You've never done that before. It just took me by surprise, that's all."

"Okay. So that was definitely good?" He doubled checked.

She nodded, and he smiled, proudly.

There was music playing in her room that she'd put on to calm him, and the energy of it left them no escape from each other. Violin strings and piano keys lifted them higher, and soon the melody came to an end, but their snuggling didn't. Soft kisses and Clara's gentle cooing was the only music heard until another tune played. Or rather a high-pitched bleeping that shook the lovers apart.

They bound off the bed and ran down the corridors towards the sound.

"Oh, this damn ship has such perfect timing!" The Doctor cried in frustration, flipping the lever at the console to switch the annoyance off. "What's the matter now?" He asked the TARDIS, and she flashed an image on the monitor screen he ignored to help his love tuck her blouse back into her skirt. "Clara and I were in the middle of-"

He paused and snatched the monitor round for a better view.

Clara looked at him with concern. "What is it?"

Glancing down with a smile to ease her fears, the Doctor queried, "Um, you can swim can't you, dear?"

"Yea, why?"

"Just in-case," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the door. "On the count of three…"

"In-case what?"

"One-"

"Doctor?"

"Two-"

"Can you please explain?!"

"Three!"

And he held her hand tighter than ever as the water rushed into the ship. He pushed his impossible, and now screaming, girl out and forced the door shut, hearing the TARDIS's faint groan from the sudden water damage. "I know, I know! But you could have warned me the tide was coming in a bit sooner!" He splattered and wobbled in the sea like a jellyfish, and wrapped his arms around Clara. "Come on, she's having a tantrum because she doesn't like water - we'll have to find her later."

"Find her?!"

"Yes. If we'd stayed inside, goodness knows where she'd have flung us. Look, we can worry about that when we're not drowning! Now, swim!"

After watching the ship dematerialise, the couple did their best to tackle the sea around them, trying to drag them further out as it had the ship. Clara kicked her legs behind her, keeping perfectly afloat with her Time Lord holding her to his chest, but she suddenly slipped from his grasp. Submerged every few seconds, unable to fight against the sea, Clara cried out for help as the Doctor dived down to push her back to the surface, but in doing so, he lost sight of her through the bubbles he and the crashing waves had created.

_'Where are you?'_ He called to her mind. He spun frantically looking for her, but with no answer, he rose to take a gulp of air, and determined to stay under there longer, relied on his special respiratory. _'Clara, where are you?! Answer me!'_ Hoping she heard him, the Doctor cried for her over and over until a slight grumble, a soft whimper through his mind had him turn to the right, just as her dress caught his eye. _'I can see you! Stay with me, darling.'_

Thrashing his limbs, coordinately for a change, to bring him closer to her, the Doctor grabbed her arm and scooped her in his. Using his excess oxygen to expel into her lungs, he opened her mouth, quickly locking his lips over hers and breathed life back into her.

Clara's lips soon pressed back and kissed him for a second, before realisation of where they were hit her. She flung herself around him again, and he told her, _'Don't let go.'_

The Doctor swam up to the surface, but on the way there he smacked his head on something clear above them. _'What the hell?!'_ He punched it, recoiling from the pain in his knuckles.

Clara held him tighter, terrified she would pass out a second time, but the fuzziness returned. _'Doctor, I feel dizzy.'_

_'Just hold on a little longer!'_

Something then came crashing against their feet and had the pair hauled up into, what felt like, a tank. The base wasn't alone in joining them - during the time the Doctor had spent punching and kicking against the sides to break free, bringing out the sonic to help, Clara noticed mermaid-like creatures on the outside swimming towards them.

She shook his shoulders. _'Doctor!'_

_'Clara, I know - I know! I'm trying to get us out; just-'_ and he looked round at what she was trying to get his attention on. _'Ah, okay then,'_ he said, a little concerned, and even more so as Clara's body let his go and floated to the bottom of the tank.

He swam down, feeling the container being raised, and the liquid drained out through holes in the side. There was now enough air for the couple to breathe, and the Time Lord would be relieved if he wasn't panicking over Clara's lifeless body. He tended to her, smoothing the hair from her face and scanning her with the sonic for any signs of hope. Slowly she came to, coughing out the water she'd inhaled, and he held her to his chest.

"Are you okay?"

"Yea, but what the hell is going on?"

"Well, seems like someone's been fishing… and we've just been caught…"

* * *

**Just want to say that Clara wasn't doing anything other than washing herself in the shower - originally she actually was doing "something", and that's what I wanted to change as I didn't like that idea. She was just thinking about the Doctor in a less-than-innocent way. I just don't want this being a 'M' rating yet, so I had to calm it down a lot!**

**If anyone wondered, there is a plot to this story, it's just not going to unravel all at once as that isn't how I write - I can't write short things very well lol. So please bear with these first few chapters, but you'll see they are relevant.**


	8. Aquarium

**Eight**

The Doctor was anxious once he found they were inside an alien sea vessel, even more so that it was on Earth! Armed with his sonic screwdriver, he tried to cut a doorway in the glass to escape, once the life-forms had finished with their assortment of tubing, pushing them into the holes that'd previously let the sea out through, but he paused when one returned with a lethal looking injection. Bright purple liquid sloshed around inside as it was brought closer to the tall, machine the rubbery tubes were connected to.

Clara took his hand, whispering, "Doctor, what's that? What's it doing?"

"Giving us a knock-out drug, cleaning the tank; I don't know! Maybe it's food. But we're about to find out…"

The short amphibian-looking creature stuck the sharp needle into a small, previously covered, hole, squeezing the liquid inside the vibrating machine next to their tank. They watched everything the alien did, and waited for their fate as it quickly disappeared from the chamber.

"Now what?" Clara asked, and suddenly felt woozy. "Uh, Doc-Doctor…"

The Time Lord held his hands to his head. "Yes - definitely a- definitely a knock… out…"

And the couple collapsed in a heap on top of each other.

* * *

"Clar-Clara… ugh, those typical fish, with their jabby needles - Clara…" The Doctor began to come round, mumbling to himself continuously, as though he were a record on loop. He then sat bolt upright. "Clara?" He whispered, firmly, and glanced around himself to find no sign of her. He panicked, but outside the tank a smiling face watched him from across the dimly lit room.

A faint knock prized his eyes upwards, and he grinned, letting a sigh of relief go.

In walked Clara through the door at the end of the tank with a mug in her hands. "How was your nap?" She asked, laying a kiss on his forehead.

"It was heavenly," he replied as he stood up to hug her.

"Dreaming of all those ex-companions again?" Clara cheekily suggested.

"I did not dream of them!"

Clara giggled at his whinging.

"Anyway. I'm confused, and I don't like being confused; nothing good ever comes from me being confused - so, what's going on here?" Taking her hand, the couple stepped from the tank. The Doctor was then presented with a metal sheet, as thin as paper. It was a little bigger than his hand, and he eyed it curiously.

"It's okay, they're friendly," Clara reassured, and noticed his confusion wasn't fading. "Oh, they just want you to sign in."

"Sign in?" He looked at her and back to the tiny alien.

"Yea - put your palm on it," she instructed, sipping at her drink.

"Have you done this?" The Doctor was still hesitant to touch it.

Clara showed him her palm. In small red lettering, it had the time and date, her home planet, her species, gender and age written there, and the lettering shimmered in the soft light. "It tickled," she smiled, looking over her skin.

The Doctor scanned her palm with his sonic and checked the readings. Grumbling to himself that he needn't worry over her, because he did quite enjoy being the hero when Clara was in danger, he obliged to being stamped.

As the metal sheet did its job, the Doctor asked her, "How did you get a drink? Can I get a drink?"

"Sure," she replied.

"What did you find out about them?"

The aliens behind them punched things into their computer against the wall once they had all the information they needed.

"Well, they weren't trying to harm us, since they woke me up with this drink. They dried me off while you were still spark out; thanks for that by the way. Little blue aliens don't seem to understand privacy," Clara suggested, lifting her skirt slightly.

"Ah. I see," the Doctor blushed.

"I think they're actually scientists; archaeologists perhaps? That's what I gather from all this clutter." She looked about the room with him before handing him his mug. "I have no idea what the flavour is. Nice though."

The Doctor took a sip. "Ooh, it is very nice. So, have they spoken to you? They don't seem very talkative."

"I've been waiting for them to talk, but I've heard absolutely nothing."

They watched the aliens staring at each other, and then the Doctor cottoned-on.

"Ah - they're psychic."

"How's that gonna help when we need to communicate with them?"

"Hmm. Hold this," the Doctor told her, handing over his mug, and set to work on a tiny radio on a shelf beside them.

Sonic at the ready, he undid the back of it, pulling out chips and wires to thread in a different way, manipulating the connections around a device he grabbed from his pocket. He flipped it round, once he'd closed it up again, to remove the front speaker and soniced it inside for a few moments.

Clara watched intently, waiting to be impressed.

Finishing his _jiggery-pokery_, he pushed the speaker back in place and tossed the object up in the air, catching it skilfully in the other hand. "There! Super-duper-stereo!"

"And what does it do?" She asked, still waiting to be impressed.

"It does this!" He announced, and proudly pressed the play button atop the machine. All of a sudden, 'Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini' came blaring from within. The little aliens spun on the spot and curiously cocked their heads in the couple's direction. The Doctor stared at the object in his hands in disbelief. Flustering at his awkward mistake, he swiftly pressed stop. "Um… forgot to take the cassette out…" he said, blushing. Ejecting the tape and throwing it over his shoulder, the Doctor ignored Clara's giggles beside him. Pressing the play button a second time, the muffled droning sound of a conversation hit their eardrums from inside the radio.

"You're a bloody genius," Clara stated.

"So I've been told."

He put the radio on the side where the kettle was, and listened to their hosts talking. They could make out this and that of important things, but the Doctor was more interested in why they were on Earth to begin with.

"Um, darling, it's all well and good that we can understand them, but I doubt they speak English," Clara believed.

"Did I mention they're psychic? They know what we're saying. Maybe it's time we offered an introduction," he smiled, took another swig of his drink and walked up to the aliens.

On closer inspection, the amphibian-like alien creatures looked like Silurian, only fishier. Clara felt tall next to their four foot stature, and she thought they looked rather sweet, with their large black eyes and pretty swirls of blue and green on their skin.

"Thank you for the refreshments," the Doctor smiled at their little blue friends. He thought they smiled in return but their fishy mouths seemed rather motionless, unless to gulp air every so often, and he then heard faint mumbles behind him. "Turn it up, will you Clara?" He called back to her.

She twisted the dial on the front of the radio. "What did they say?"

"Would you mind repeating that?"

"I said, you're welcome, time traveller," one of them replied.

"You know I'm a time traveller?"

The pair of aliens nodded. "We have been surveying you and your ship."

"For how long?" The Doctor felt somewhat uneasy about that.

They looked to each other and back to the Time Lord. "One day."

"Ah, you saw my ship materialise… and then dematerialise," he looked dejected over the fact. "She's temperamental…"

The aliens nodded again, and turned to concentrate on their work.

"What's this you're working on?" The Doctor enquired, sonicing the items on the table in-front of them.

"We've discovered many things in Earth seas - plant life, sea dwellers-" One began listing.

"Vehicles," the other added, and what could only be described as a look of disgust, its friend shook its head towards them.

"No! Not vehicles!" The little blue creature spoke harshly.

The Doctor chuckled, glancing back at Clara giggling.

"Sorry to interrupt, but do you have names?" Clara asked, walking up to the trio.

They looked up at her. "I am Ruhol," one acknowledged, and it held its little fishy hand to its chest.

The other did the same. "I am Yade."

"And are those male or female names?" She asked, cautiously, so she didn't offend.

The Doctor was also curious.

Ruhol answered them, "We are both male."

"Siblings?" The Time Lord wondered.

"We are brothers," they replied in unison.

"They're so adorable!" Clara quietly spoke to her own alien.

"What is _adorable_?" Yade asked, cocking his little head in their direction again.

And the travellers chuckled.

* * *

Ruhol and Yade were curious to learn more of what these two creatures could teach them of Earth, and walked them through to another part of the vessel that occupied a few sea creatures Clara had never seen before in the flesh.

With the tiny radio strapped over his shoulder like a satchel, the Doctor continued to freely converse with the aliens as they were shown specific life. "Ah, now that's a beautiful specimen," he pointed out, looking into a glass tank, a lot smaller than what they'd been captured in, while the frogfish he'd noticed came into view.

"It's walking?!" Clara cried in surprise. "A fish that can walk. Creationist's nightmare, I bet…"

"And these are mudskippers - another nightmare, you could say."

"Well, I know what that is," she announced, pushing her fingertip to the glass of the next tank. "Hello!" She smiled as the lionfish swam by. She wandered around a little more, and gave an excited squeal when she found pretty little seahorses floating about in another tank. "Oh, how cute! Have you seen these?"

The Doctor had stood back by this point, watching her, enthralled by the sea-life of her home planet, and he smiled. She didn't realise he was gazing upon her until she noticed him through the back of the tank, in an eerie Titanic-like moment.

Clara laughed, her cheeks heating up by the eyes upon her. "Ogling me again?"

He simply shrugged.

She didn't mind - she loved the way he looked at her. But there were fish to ogle instead, and she looked into the tank to ignore him.

"They have such simple lives," the Doctor sighed, watching the fish with her. He was always one for the odd, meaningful set of words, as though he knew just what to say at the right moment, when his tongue would cooperate. "So tranquil…"

"_I'm a little yellow fish… in the deep blue sea,_" Clara sang softly beside him.

"Well, that's just silly."

She chuckled. He hadn't a clue what she was referencing, and she snuggled against his arm. "Nothing wrong with silly."

A chill shook his spine at a memory. "Quite right."

Metal suddenly rattled behind them as Yade carried the large piece with his brother through the room, baffling the cuddling couple.

"Where did you find that?" The Time Lord was intrigued, stepping forward to take a closer look.

The aliens stopped and turned to him.

"It died here," Yade replied.

"Sorry? It _died_? In here?"

"Yes."

Rohul added, "Now there is only one alive on board."

The Doctor lowered his voice to the woman next to him. "We need to get out of this vessel, NOW!"

"Why? What's the panic?"

"My oldest, deadliest, and most relentless enemy is somewhere in here - _that's_ the panic!"

* * *

**Terrible filler chapter, I know. Probably should have included it at the end of the previous one but nevermind, it leads up to something else and somewhat vital to the story. The next chapter is better, I think, and a bit different.**


	9. That Lad

**This is brand new... I'm a little nervous to upload it because I really like it, and I hope others do too.**

**I wrote it based on a dream I had about being with two of the 11****th**** Doctor, the Ponds and Clara, and we were trapped in some sort of alien concentration camp. The Ponds' Doctor was taken from our group first, then the Ponds were taken, and Clara and her Doctor last. After freaking out and telling a random alien that none of this was real, I woke up in the dream and came downstairs to tell my mum all about it, but found the Doctor standing in our living room telling me that everything was real, that it wasn't a dream. Having then woken up properly, I had to write it all down - always write down your dreams (the more obscure the better) because they can be inspiration for stories!**

**Anyway, please do enjoy, and there is another minor swearword in this too.**

* * *

**Nine**

_"That lad's gonna bring about the end o' the world… you'll see… you'll see__…__"_

* * *

War-torn and dying, this world was hungry for release of its suffering. Above the mounds over the dusty plains, mangled skeletons of the many who'd fallen were coarse across the landscape, jutting out like naked trees. When the wind whipped up the sand and enticed it to dance around the bones, it almost brought them alive.

This was home to so many more whose loved ones were among the dead they now walked upon. Although tired after journeying to the great cities, gatherings of gangs would try to penetrate the walls on a daily basis, keeping security on their toes. Those refused the sanctuary they believed they deserved, the sanctuary they believed was just the other side, would beg for entry, to be given a job, a home-cooked meal, a comfortable place to rest, but little did they know they were better off outside.

Obretali, Nofina, and the tethered, floating city of Zige had their borders under control, preventing the ardent of gangs any entry, but the same couldn't be said for Etdigast, where a secret tunnel bore beneath the backstreets and dirty buildings left in ruins. Having been dug away from the city centre, the tunnel currently occupied a young pregnant woman with her husband, a tiny tot of a girl carried by a preteen boy, and an elderly gentleman staggered to keep up. They were top-to-toe in all the clothing they owned, and held every necessary item on their backs. At one end, a young man suited in a long brown leather coat guided the family through, where another man guarded the other end, ushering small groups through to keep them from being caught. Diversions were set at every possible moment to guide another few through, but this family made it.

Shaking the hand of the grandfather and handing him and his family over to their new landlord, Vincent Tyler wiped his brow and lifted his communicator to inform his colleague at the other end to send more people down. The good in him felt wrong at times, as he knew these innocent families could be caught and sent into the workhouses, or even worse, the camps. He'd escaped as a young boy, kept his ear to the ground, kept moving, kept invisible, and now worked to help those stuck outside with nothing but endless days of scraping through existence. Some of these people could have a chance at honing a skill and become something useful on the inside. That's what he believed, because who was he to tell them their dreams may go to waste?

In the year 12,758, there began a war that shook the entire planet. A race of metal invaded and the inhabitants had no way of winning as everything in their way was eradicated, or as the metal would declare, "Exterminate!" Millions were killed in the first three hours, millions who'd resisted, leaving pockets of some barely surviving - important to the invaders' plans, they needed some to breed. All cities of resource were taken over and workers were placed to make sure things ran smoothly.

During those first three hours, Vincent was one of a few spared by pure luck, though his parents and little brother were murdered. He'd watched on from a small kitchen cupboard as three blinding lights shot through the room. His eight-year-old mind could not comprehend the guilt he felt for being a coward and hiding away, for not doing anything. So, ten years later, he made a promise in their honour that he would do all he could for others in the same situation. They needed hard-working, dedicated people on the inside to battle the enemy, who they now called their leaders.

Inside Etdigast's main workhouse, people lined the halls and filled the zones and chambers connecting them. Like a hive, it was active, it was loud, and the gritty, humid air left many collapsing before the morning was over. Steam-filled pipes sprang from the walls nearly on an hourly basis, with the familiar hiss adding to the music of the city's bustling chorus of sound. The ambience of peddle bikes, scooters, the odd playful spat amongst workers, promptly being put in their place a moment later by their keeper with a whip against the thighs.

A wealthy horde ventured far and wide to find new workers, giving their demands from the sky above. It wasn't unusual that no-one saw their masters; no-one knew their names or what they looked like, just knowing the 'main man', Mr. Wistlowe, had the herd of men and women in check. In his suit of brown, his shoes of a matching shade, and a pair of fine gold cufflinks at his shirt sleeves, Mr. Wistlowe's stout frame strode proudly wherever he appeared around the great city. Though the smiling man would meet frown after frown, they could only broaden the smug grin on his face as he'd straightened his handlebar moustache.

_"When we walk shoulder-to-shoulder with our fellowman, we walk from the shadows of evil and destruction, into a brighter, peaceful future,"_ the heavyset gentleman would deliver to his full and attentive audiences, convincing them of their good work.

From time to time, a distant chamber would close, locked forever. People would disappear and were never found. The big mystery that was never spoken of, but everyone knew. And that'd always been the way to some.

As nighttime creeps slowly upon the city, there's a promise of relaxation for some workers. With ventilated fresh air from outside the hive only filtered in certain areas, everyone flocked to the nearest retreat to mingle with the locals or rekindle affection with their loved ones. Parents hugged their children, friends would shake hands, and lovers would dance the night away.

The gloom was lit by orange-tinged oil lamps scattered along streets, hanging from another company building, and within a night club on the very outskirts of the city, a jazz beat echoed along the tiny backstreets. A swinging sign above the entrance enticed many down the stairs, following those tantalizing sounds and soft lights. The darkened dance floor lent itself to ease the multitude of couples into frenzy. Their hot bodies swooned, their hungry lips collided, and the beat of the music bounced through their hearts, carrying them higher. A continuous stream of hormones as passion was shared and repaid. Giggles caught the air, and in a moment were faded into the haze of sound.

* * *

**Etdigast: April 12,734.**

Jasper snatched his glass off the bar and downed the rest of his drink in one. "I'm off - night all."

A chorus of groans and whinges surrounded him, and a delicate, but firm, hand captured his arm. "Where are you going so fast?" The pouty woman asked. "We haven't had a dance yet. Or a snog!"

"Hazel, I'm right here!" Teddy chided his drunken wife.

"Oh hush, I've danced with you all night," she replied, beginning the ritual of sucking up.

"But you're such a flirt when you get like this. I can't take you anywhere…"

Meanwhile, Jasper had slipped out the grip of his clumsy friend, and their sight, drowning out their voices and the music inside the club with the rumble of an oncoming storm, and he made tracks for home as quickly as possible.

Home.

That'd always been with Lydia. Their little flat above a take-away wasn't much, with its cracks and its dents, the floorboards that creaked at night and the windows that rattled in the wind, but they made do. That was until she met Jacob, and Jasper's whole world turned upside down.

Up the steps he jogged to his front door, unlocking it with a shudder as he felt the wonderful heat caress him and the chilliness left on the doorstep downstairs. His keys flew to the settee from his fingertips as he headed for the kitchen with a whistle on his tongue, and met with a familiar face that stopped him dead in the doorway.

"Dad. Hi…?" He spun round to find his mother and Lydia sat at the table. "What the hell's going on? What's she doing here?" He scowled at the woman in question.

"Thanks a lot. Nice to see you too…"

"I told you months ago, I never wanted to see you again!"

"Well, it's bloody hard luck - they dragged me round here!" She growled back, pointing to his parents.

Ignoring the words of his ex, Jasper lunged across the table, crying out, "Haven't you ruined my life enough, or are you back for another dig?!"

"Alright, that's enough!" Bellowed his dad, and pulled his son back by the scruff to sit down. They quietened instantly, and Jasper stuffed his hands into his pockets like a grumpy child. "Now then, I'm sorry it's had to be handled this way, but we couldn't get hold of you."

Jasper looked up at his dad. "I've been at the Ashby with everyone - didn't hear my phone ring," he explained, bringing out the object into his palm. He realised they'd been calling all evening, and quickly apologised.

"It's okay, love," his mum smiled softly. She was aware of the young thing beside her and tried not to make light of a serious matter.

"It was rather urgent we spoke to you together," his dad continued.

"Okay… sure," Jasper acknowledged. Noticing the unease over Lydia's face, he frowned in confusion, glancing to them all in turn. "Would be helpful if I knew the urgency."

His dad took a seat beside him. The torment evident in his eyes, unknowing how Jasper would react, he began with a tepid, "Son… we have some news…"

Lydia had agreed to meet Jasper's parents that night at her old home after bumping into them in a nearby town. Following some awkward pleasantries, the Albertsons noticed it - well, there was no hiding it. Realising it was his son's doing and knowing he had every right to know, Mr Albertson persuaded Lydia to tell all. Though terrified he'd flip at the news, she then begged them to accompany her.

Struggling, trying to be as delicate as possible with his mumbling, Mr Albertson paused and turned to the women for help, receiving only blank stares. He then faced his son once more to try explaining further. "You're- you've got- well, last year, while you were in a relationship with Lydia, you both…"

Lydia sighed, rolling her eyes, impatiently. Things would need shifting up a gear if he was ever going to be told this century. She butted in, "Basically Jasper…" and stood up.

The young man's eyes widened, staring at what was in-front of him. "Oh good god. That's a- is that mine?!"

"Yes, he is, and-"

"I have a son?"

She tried to stay compassionate that he'd not known a thing of her pregnancy, and tucked a strand of blonde hair behind an ear. "He's due in about three months, and if you want to be part of his life… we'll work something out," she rushed, quite coldly, and seated herself. "That's why I'm here, that's why I agreed to this, because-" She rolled her eyes again and flailed a little in her guilt. "What I did to you was unforgivable, and Jacob is totally against all of this but I don't care. He's not my son's father, you are, and I want you in his life. I'm hoping you do too." Her gaze lowered to her hands at the table, not sure what was going to happen next.

Mrs Albertson held her husband's hand while Lydia spoke, and they smiled to one another that she hadn't tried to make their son feel worse than he may have already been feeling. "We'll be in the living room, okay? Call us if you need to," she smiled to them.

It seemed like eternity until the silence would be broken, and Lydia's watch ticked on at her wrist. Minute after minute of staring at the hands and listening to her heart pounding in her chest, she didn't know what to say.

And then he spoke.

"Why did you wait until now?"

"I didn't know how to reach you before I saw your parents."

"That's complete bollocks and you know it, so drop the act," he scorned. "I've not left this place since you ran off with him - you could have visited at any time."

"It hasn't exactly been an easy thing to come and discuss, not even with my parents or Jacob!"

"No, I suppose not," he replied, tipping his head in agreement. "I'm sorry for-"

"No Jasper," Lydia stopped him, reluctantly pulling out a newspaper cutting from her handbag, and looked at it with regret, before shoving it gently across the table in her ex's direction. "It wasn't easy… because of this."

In his hands, Jasper held an article about his son, about the man he'd become, and about all he'd invoke. He quietly read in shock, his eyes drying from their stare, and Lydia removed another piece of paper with a photo on from her handbag, offering it over the centrepiece on the table.

"I met this man shortly after we broke up, before I knew I was pregnant. The Doctor, he called himself."

"Doctor who?" Jasper asked on cue.

"Just… the Doctor. But he told me who I was carrying, and I didn't understand how he could know because he and his friend, a young girl called Clara, were from a long time ago, many galaxies away…"

As Lydia explained her encounter with the time travellers, Jasper's fingertips folded the newspaper cutting and he took the new piece, looking at the strong jawline and floppy hairdo. Not unlike his own for work, this chap wore a fetching bowtie.

"… After we escaped the daleks, he told me-"

"What's a dalek?" Jasper interrupted.

Lydia blinked away the story from her mind to recollect the horrid images she'd forced herself to forget. "Hate - that's what he said they were."

"And our son is going to be the one who brings about the end of the world, helping these daleks of hate?!" Jasper stood up, walked to the sink and turned the cold tap to splash water across his face, washing the salty sweat and tears from his skin. Behind him, his ex was quiet, unable to answer and not really needing to. He opened the cupboard above him, taking a couple of mugs out. "Want a cuppa?"

"Uh, yea. Sure. Thank you," Lydia replied, a little confused. She recognised the behaviour in him that she experienced after she found out. Running on autopilot for the first few weeks, before she settled into the idea it was completely out of her control and nothing she could do would change it.

"You know what we'll do? We'll raise him to know better, to _be_ better. He's not yet been corrupted, and now he never will. I'll make sure of it," he asserted, smiling across the room.

"I'm sorry. It doesn't work like that. It's already happened, is happening… will happen," Lydia said, sorrowfully. "The Doctor, he's a time traveller, he saw this happen and he took me there. We got caught up in the fight and he told me; he gave me some vague idea of the future, but he couldn't say a lot."

"What did he say?"

"Run."

"Run?"

"He said it a lot," Lydia softly smiled. "We had to, they were chasing us."

"They? The daleks? You met them?" Jasper walked to her side, taking hold of her shoulder for comfort.

And she nodded, breaking down in his arms. She had brought the memories alive again when all she wanted was them to go. Knowing she couldn't abort her own child made her furious and guilty because she saw all those lives they'd end and families they'd tear apart. She had such foreknowledge she wished she hadn't.

"He said there was a chance we could raise him differently, and keep him away from the daleks, but it was a slim chance with everything that was happening at the time. He was power-hungry because of-" Lydia couldn't continue, gulping away her next words.

Jasper's palm grazed her back, encouragingly. "It's okay. Let it out," he reassured. "You can tell me what happened. He's our son and we're in this together."

"Do you really want to know?" Lydia watched him nod, and it made her confident to tell him everything. "It was a fortnight after I moved in with Jacob. He'd left for work already. It was just an ordinary morning…"

* * *

**Planet: Doekex. Year: 3056.**

Down and down the spiral staircase took the escapees. Clunking heels and thudding boots, their path to freedom was not made modestly.

"Would you quieten those bloody shoes, woman!" The Doctor said as quietly as he could to the brunette below him.

"You can talk, with those massive feet thundering behind me!" Clara scowled back at him.

"This is no time for a lover's tiff!" The third, frightened, individual spoke up after a few minutes of hearing the bickering behind continue into who really woke the Soul of Isakmahal during his five hundredth year of ritual solitude and slumber, and landing on her right foot, Lydia spun to face the couple.

"We're sorry," they said in unison.

"Really though, it's much easier to argue on the move," the Doctor added, and grabbed each of their hands, dragging them along with him as they leaped from the final steps. The sound of galloping echoed all around the courtyard, and the trio flinched, dodging arrows flying past in their race towards the exit. "With the Soul awake, horsemen on our tails and possibly deadly assassins waiting beyond those castle gates, I'm sincerely hoping the TAR-"

And the alien cut dead, crashing to his chest on the dusty, dirty ground. Clara screamed her distress, seeing an arrow sharply stuck into the back of her lover's neck. Wasting no time, she pulled at the weapon, dislodging it and throwing it aside, just as a herd of horses surrounded them. Lydia was the first to be lifted from her feet and thrown into a wooden crate one horse was pulling behind it. She watched with tears in her eyes and an aching in her stomach as Clara was dragged kicking and screaming from her wounded partner, being forced into a separate crate. And lastly, the Doctor had a couple of guards pick him up and toss like a sack of potatoes into the crate with Clara, who instantly dragged him into her arms, begging him to respond.

Lydia closed her eyes to block the sight, stuck her fingers in her ears to drown out the sounds, and thought of the hours that had passed, the times she'd travelled to and places she'd seen. She didn't want this anymore; she wanted to go home to her normal life, before that distinguished gentleman in the nifty getup had been stood by her door when she opened it to collect the morning milk bottles. He'd looked to be raising his finger to push her doorbell, but retracted it, opening his palm to wave a friendly hello.

_"Can I help you, sir?"_ She'd asked, pushing her glasses to the bridge of her nose.

The man smiled, pleasantly, sighing with some relief, as though all his prayers had been answered in that one simple question. _"Oh, Lydia Wistlowe, I rather think you can!"_

* * *

**Oo-er! Next chapter up soon, where it'll somewhat make much more sense where it's heading, and why it's so randomly placed in the beginning of Clara and the Doctor's relationship.**

**Should say, by the way, I've not made Vincent Tyler as any relation to Rose. I was messing about with names when I invented the character earlier, and I thought this name fit him well.**


	10. Run From Fear

**I was thinking of using italics to emphasise the past events (like in the second chapter with Equos) to where the Doctor and Clara are in Etdigast, on Earth, etc, but that's why I used the bold 'planet/city and date' references, because there are various time and planet hops, which makes everything confusing anyway, but I hope it isn't too hard to keep track with the info in bold each time. :) I personally feel the chapter content does flow fine, but I can't stick to one thing at a time, so everything is a bit jumbled. It will be all tied up in the next chapter and back to 'present' time.**

* * *

**Ten**

**Earth: Ruhol and Yade's vessel. Date: 2013.**

Having been lead along the corridors the vessel housed, they were introduced to the captured dalek. It was weak, barely hanging onto life, but as it spoke, it still brought a little fear into the old Time Lord.

"You are the Doctor," it stated, breathlessly.

"Yep, that's me," he replied, cautiously moving around his enemy, examining it from afar in the secure room.

Clara tried to ask from the shadows, "Doctor, what is-"

"Not right now, dear," he interrupted, coldly. Focusing on the alien before him, he questioned, "What are you doing here? You're chained up by two tiny, little aliens, and you're dying… how?"

"We were gunned down," the dalek began.

"Liar," the Doctor butted in, a scowl on his face and a twitch running through his body.

Clara looked at him from where she stood out the way with Ruhol and Yade. She'd seen him angry and scared before, and it was never good. She was worried for him, losing his head because of emotions.

The dalek's eyestalk jolted round, panning until it found the Doctor, and stopped to look him in the eye. "We were gunned down," it reiterated. "We were too damaged to fight back."

The Time Lord continued to walk around his enemy until he reached the room gates where the three others stood. He looked daggers at the dalek once more and turned to quietly ask, "Yade, is this true?" He already knew it was. The daleks didn't understand the concept of lying unless programmed to forget who they were - he'd seen that before with Amy. Their very existence was to kill anything that wasn't dalek - why would they spare two little archaeologists?

Yade nodded and the Doctor half-heartedly smiled. "You've done something very few have…"

He walked over to the dalek and pulled up a chair to sit on, beginning his questions again: Why are you really here? Did someone send you? Where are the others? The interrogation went on for at least five and a quarter hours, Clara kept note of, and they found out only two daleks were sent to Earth, their mission was to herd humanity to surrender, and that they'd been here for a few Earth years unseen by most so they could work undercover. Very unlike a dalek, which intrigued the Doctor - the daleks weren't all cunning and secretive, they were ruthless. They would never wait for the right moment and pluck off humanity one-by-one, they would charge in and take by force.

The Doctor lifted himself from the chair, ordering Ruhol to unchain the dalek, and Clara questioned his ideas.

_'It's dying. It's going to-'_ he spoke privately to her, but was cut off by the metal alien shining bright when the chains were finally removed. In a flash, it was gone.

"Uh, Doctor? Where is it?!" Clara panicked.

"No idea, but I knew it would escape," he replied, sonicing the floor where it stood, the space it had occupied, and the chains that were wrapped around it. He realised they were the answer. "It was weakened still by the metal. These chains are made of a compound which renders all other metals motionless. You can't move anything - a car, a typewriter, a paperclip - unless the chains are moved first. It was just waiting."

Clara was then dragged by the hand through the vessel, Yade and Ruhol scurried behind.

"We need to get out of here and follow that alien - will you help us?" The Doctor asked the two little blue creatures, getting nods in reply. "Good. Firstly, where's the door in this place?" He queried, twisting on the spot, glancing all around this new room. Pointing his sonic everywhere, he didn't notice their hosts.

Ruhol's hand lifted and he clicked his fingers. Just then, a cranking sound to the left had them all look that way, and a strip of natural light poured through a crack where a door was opening. The Doctor chuckled, lightly, recognising his own way of opening his ship's door, and stepped forward to peer out. He saw the sun shining bright and families relaxing on the beach. It had been a long night. He gave a deep breath and held Clara's hand again, pointing with the other to show her where the TARDIS was standing along the pier.

"Come on; she'll be fine to travel in now. All her tantrums should be over too," he smiled, and turned to Ruhol, asking for various items that they'd excavated on the planets and moons they'd visited, and in the Time Lord's pockets the items fell. He thanked them and off along the sand the couple walked.

"How do we follow that thing?" Clara queried. "It could be anywhere by now."

"The old girl can track its whereabouts with the help of these things," he said, producing a disc-shaped object with a soft jagged edge and symmetrical patten, rather like a paisley design. The patterns pulsated a dark electric blue, showing the contrast between that and the dull slate grey of the rock it was embossed onto.

Clara took it from him and flipped it over, checking it both sides, and she asked, "Okay. If it's so deadly, why are we going to follow it?"

The Doctor looked about the beach. He didn't want those people in danger. Even though it was weak, that single dalek could still send signals far and wide, could come back with an entire army within seconds, and right now the Time Lord Victorious was there and he was prepared to stop them in their tracks.

"Also… you haven't told me _what_ it is."

He glanced back at her with a soft smile, and suddenly '_Oswin Oswald, Junior Entertainment Manager, Starship Alaska. Current status: crashed and shipwrecked somewhere... not nice_,' flashed through his mind. She'd known all about them before - '_I know a dalek when I hear one,_' - and that she denied the fact her soul was trapped inside one of those metal nightmares - '_I am not a dalek, I am human!_' The Doctor knew she wouldn't remember them because those memories didn't exist for his love yet.

He fed his fingers between hers and said nothing.

* * *

The couple ended up not following the dalek on a direct route, instead, after some readings were made, they found they were in Yorkshire, 1989.

"Hey, I was born this year," Clara spoke up, excitedly, seeing the date on the monitor.

"Oh how lovely! A tiny, baby Clara. Well, a baby Clara. You're still rather tiny. Have you grown much since then?" The Time Lord quipped, getting a playful slap to the arm.

She zipped up her coat and picked up her bag before marching to the door to take a look around, hearing the Doctor's voice worrying behind her.

"Still, if you're getting ideas of visiting your infant self while we're here, you can forget it! Been down that route before and don't plan on a repeated fiasco," he called out, furrowing his brows at the memory of his beloved Rose and her father. Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he met the young brunette at the door. "This is a brief visit for clues - since she insists on taking me where I need to go, rather than anywhere I want to, something is bound to crop up, so you must behave, okay?"

"I know Doctor. I understand timelines shouldn't be crossed."

"Well, I'm glad one of my companions does. Lives are complicated enough as it is, without them being revisited," he explained. "Ready, my dear?"

They walked from the ship, across the grass they'd landed on, and reached a large hamlet, almost a village, at the base of a hill. The wind howled between the little stone houses as they neared the subject of the Doctor's new interest. Clara's coat collars turned up on their accord as she shielded herself, her back taking the brunt of the weather, and the alien's purple tweed flapped violently. His enthusiasm wasn't deterred, however, and as though it was his birthday, charged up and down the embankment they'd arrived on to check out some ruins above.

Clara yawned. She didn't mean to, she wasn't bored, but being up all night had taken its toll on her brain. All she wanted now was to snuggle on the sofa with her alien and a drop of her favourite wine, before retreating to bed with a good book. Not more seemingly-calm-but-soon-hostile situations, leading them down the path to trouble. The hilly landscape on her home planet was quite a sight, however. She wasn't quite sure what part of Yorkshire it was, but the land seemed to roll for miles, as far as she could see, sewn with rows of poplars and hedgerows, and fields littered with poppies and daisies, clovers and buttercups, all brightened by the sunshine like a beautiful watercolour. The other side, the sea battered against high cliffs below them. She had a rough inkling it was Whitby.

"Beneath these ruins lies the most intricate of tunnels and passages that may still be accessible," the Doctor explained as he skipped from a crumbled corner that was once a wall. "But, something isn't right here… firstly, the tunnels shouldn't exist, this place should be buzzing with visitors and local folk, the cliff face is far too close, and this grass hasn't had a decent mow for weeks! Look at the state of it!" He exclaimed, grabbing a hefty clump to show her and let it fly from his fingertips.

"Is this Whitby?" Clara asked.

Scanning the air, he confirmed, "Yes, it is. But not quite."

"How do you mean, 'not quite'?"

"Ah… well, we could be somewhere else," he replied, vaguely, running around another corner. Waving his sonic up and down a pillar he'd previously prodded, ran a thumb across, and then completely ignored, he left Clara wondering why he'd bothered with the great lump of stone in the first place. "I didn't waste my time with it…" he called out, twirling the sonic screwdriver in the air like a baton, and walking round each block of stone. "I'm trying to find a door."

Clara glanced all around her, noticing a large flat rock hidden away in the ground, buried deep within the grass. "A stone door?"

"Probably."

Her intuition was proved correct when she walked over, pushing overgrown grass and weeds out the way and saw an iron knocker on the front. "I think I've found it," she called through the strong wind.

"Really?" The Doctor came bounding over, tugged at the iron handle, but it wouldn't budge. The Doctor grabbed her hand and told her, "Stand back."

"But I found the door," she said, pointing at it, trying to rouse a 'thank you Clara', 'you're brilliant Clara'. Not the reaction she expected.

"I know, but you'll need to step back a moment."

"Okay, why?"

The Doctor held the sonic to the handle. It whizzed and buzzed, and the metal rattled aggressively against the stone. "DUCK!" He yelled just as the handle flew off over their heads. The alien threw Clara to the ground, diving down to cover her body with his for protection.

"Well, that's one way to open a door," Clara grumbled, brushing the muck from her clothing, watching the Doctor disappear into the newly exposed darkened entrance. "Where the hell did that go?" She looked around and saw the handle still flying through the air. With a chuckle, she turned on her heels and followed him inside.

"Ugh, creepy catacombs that make no sense, the entire place is dead, and-" he sniffed the air and pulled a face. Clara's human nose was no match for his alien snozzle, and he was rather wishing for an inferior one as he smelt that rotting flesh in the distance. "Nothing here is making sense! This can't be Earth."

He swung the sonic screwdriver around by his feet as a bony hand flinched out from the wall by Clara's face in an attempt to grab her. She screamed, leaped towards the Doctor, who turned the sonic to the hand and sent it back into the crevice it came from, just as the heavy stone door creaked and thudded shut. The sonic was aimed at the opening but nothing worked, apart from lighting up the area a little with its green glow.

The Time Lord's heavy, warm breath caught her ear. "Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."

"You think?! And don't compare me to a dog!"

"If it's any consolation, I just compared myself to a little girl."

Breaking the tension, they chuckled together.

"So, say this isn't Earth, where else could it be? You said it was Whitby when I asked."

Sonicing the air again, he tutted at it failing a couple of times. He shook it and tapped it, trying for a final time to get an accurate reading. "Okay, the good news is, this is Earth 1989…"

"What's the bad news?"

"It's Earth 1989… but… different."

"How different?"

"Parallel world, different."

"And that's bad?"

"Parallel worlds shouldn't be entered - it rips a hole in the universe."

Clara's small fist left a thump to his shoulder, just as she had a go at him. "Fantastic! You have a knack of always getting us into trouble, don't you? Even when we're in trouble, it just gets worse!"

"Well, I do have a_ nose_ for these things."

"Your clever wit doesn't work right now!"

Cutting in the lovers' blossoming argument, a familiar voice flew all around them, pulling them from their fear and throwing them into plain confusion.

"Vincent? Vincent, it's too dangerous through there; come back!"

"Who was that?" She whispered, being huddled close by her Time Lord. "Sounded like…"

"That was my voice," he interrupted, in shock.

"It sounded like a recording."

Taking her hand in his, the Doctor tugged her along. "Come on."

* * *

**Etdigast: October 12,733.**

Recruiting Miss Wistlowe proved to be valuable to the Doctor and Clara. She had knowledge of this city, and she had friends who would also be able to help them in finding out the truth. Starting with the source of all their problems was wise. Having explained she was pregnant to the baffled young woman, they got her on board with the plan. The Doctor supplied references and proof of their identities, that Lydia wasn't going completely crazy, and that neither of them were crazy either, talking of space and time travel, and especially the important news her baby would grow to, one day, become the most hated and feared man on the planet. It wasn't easy to admit that he would also be the one to bring Etdigast to its knees, knocking city by city down like dominoes.

She wanted to abort, making her own plans in her head. Both the Doctor and Clara insisted it could never be that way.

_"It is a fixed point in time - two worlds have collided. This world and a parallel equivalent of the planet Earth,"_ the Doctor had told her. He further explained, _"I've been to parallel universes before, and I've sent daleks into the void. Some must have slipped through and ended up here. By the time your son is in alignment with them, Etdigast won't be recognisable."_

As she learnt more and more of the extent of her son's wrongdoings, she began to hate herself for carrying the boy. If she couldn't abort, maybe she could take things into her own hands, and slipped from the watchful eyes of the time travellers as they busied themselves with chatter beside her on their way to the TARDIS. She was heading straight for the local docks.

Glancing to her right, Clara spun in surprise seeing the young woman a few hundred yards down the road behind them. "Doctor, she's run off!" She cried, and they sprinted after her.

When they reached the docks, Lydia was already wobbling about in the water, face-down and lifeless. Without a moment's thought, the Doctor dove in and dragged the woman back to land. Unresponsive at first, she flopped in a heap to the concrete, and Clara began resuscitation as the Doctor got himself out the water.

"Come on Lydia," Clara whispered.

The Time Lord knelt on the other side of them, cupping Lydia's hand to his chest, willing her to wake up. And suddenly she coughed, choking on the water intake, and rolled onto her side, trying to get back to drowning herself. The others grabbed her by the arms in time, and hauled her to her feet, lugging her kicking and screaming all the way to the ship, which took at least 10 minutes to walk.

"Why did you save me? It's none of your business! This is my life!" She yelled as they crossed the threshold, and she was promptly seated on a TARDIS chair. "My son will-" and then she stopped, scanning the place she'd been brought to. Her mouth hung wide open. She stood slowly, walked a few steps forward with a dazed, confused expression plastered on her wet face, and then giggled, hysterically, pointing all around as though the ship's interior was the funniest thing she'd ever seen.

Clara and the Doctor locked eyes with one another, sharing a mutual shrug. This wasn't the expected reaction a newcomer displays, and it made them giggle a little too, until the new recruit fell to the floor.

"Medical bay; now," the Time Lord instructed, and quick as a flash they'd got her there, laid her out on the bed and the Doctor linked her up to wires and machines with Clara's help.

"Will she be alright?" Clara asked, holding a tube she'd been told to raise.

"Yes - but I'm more concerned for the baby," he replied, fussing with an apparatus that looked like ultrasound equipment. "Sure I could quite easily terminate the pregnancy from here, this very second - imagine the power of preventing Hitler being born - but…" he couldn't continue, shaking his head to fight the urge away.

The brunette by his side caught his little glance towards her, and she broke the gaze, looking down to the non-existent bump. "He's just a baby right now," she said, matter-of-factly.

"Exactly. Being around you humans for so long, I've become soft," he tried to chuckle, though it didn't impress Clara, being given a frown. "What?"

"Sparing a life of evil; you consider that being 'soft'?"

The Doctor cleared his through. He no longer appreciated this conversation if he was going to be questioned on his morals. "Just… hold the tube…"

* * *

**Thank you to those who've followed so far. That gives me a nice confidence boost.**

**I didn't set out to make this ending quite so dark, but it simply flowed as I was writing it earlier - sorry if it upset anyone. Was a bit drastic, I know. It also has a Waters of Mars feel to it, which I didn't consciously include either. This part will be resolved, hopefully, in the next couple of chapters (some is already written), then there will be a completely different setting which is based purely on the Doctor and Clara spending time together.**

**And, gosh! What an amazing start to the series! I loved it!**


	11. Run From War

**I haven't wanted to write for a while due to having a lot of traumatic issues going on lately, and one in particular had similarities to the ending of the last chapter. Only in the past couple of days have I been able to concentrate on writing again. It's a bit higgledy-piggledy but I was just letting all my ideas flow. I hope it's enjoyed anyway.**

**There is a part of this chapter (about 3/4 of the way down) that I was reading through while listening to ****Sigur Rós - Ára Bátur. Translated into English, I think the lyrics go well with it, and it choked me up. It's a tender, emotional part, and song.**

* * *

**Eleven**

* * *

"You know if I could, I'd make it so it wouldn't have to be this way," the Doctor said after a passing silence between them. "He's not going to be the cute bundle of fun we saw playing with his friends in the city park. One day, he'll meet a dalek – we cannot change that. His parents will forget about us, forget the future; just enough time to enjoy their child." He lowered Clara's hand with the tube still held inside, and had her let it go now he was done with it. "I can give them that."

"You can't expect Lydia to forget all of this," Clara interjected, sighing deeply and looking to the mother before them.

"A memory wipe will sort that out – stop being… sentimental," the Doctor fussed, dismissing Clara's concern with a quick flick of his hand.

Clara shot him a glance that told him all he needed to about her opinion of that remark, wiping away a tear that tugged from her eye out of his view. There was nothing she could do but sit and wait it out with the rest of the planet. Feeling hopeless, she wandered to the other side of the room, careful to mind the vials and bottles of liquid, fiddling with the scruffy label on an old, rusty tin. It creaked as she lifted the thin lid.

The Doctor, getting back to work, found the tiny embryo was perfectly fine, and he smiled sadly to himself. He instructed Clara to watch Lydia while he returned to the console to fly them to another location. What he was suspecting was likely going to be true, and keeping the women out the way while he investigated was probably best.

Curiosity and boredom got the better of Clara, however, and she wandered through to the sound of the TARDIS door opening and the Doctor's voice muffled for just a moment before the door cut the sound off. She didn't know Lydia was waking up and shortly following after. Not hearing the tip-toeing of soft plimsoll, Clara reached the door and was about to open it when she was shoved back.

The Doctor burst back in, cowering from the onslaught of rotting vegetable chunks flying past his head as jeers and taunts rang through the console room, being muted by the slam of the door. He held it in place, hands resting about head-height against the solid wood, motioning with a glance to Clara to help him hold it shut while he fumbled in his pocket for the key, or the sonic at least. Locking it tight, he let out a heavy sigh, collapsing into his love.

Clara propped him up beside her, not overly suspicious but still had to ask, "Who'd you annoy this time?"

"Why aren't you watching Lydia?!" He cried, ignoring her question. He bound over to the console again to take off, hearing Clara's nagging in the background under the noise of the ship, when the woman herself barged into the console holding a hat stand she found in a storage room, and threatened the pair, demanding answers of where she was and who they really were.

The Doctor stretched out his arms to defend himself, should he need to, walking slowing in her direction and said, "Miss Wistlowe, you're in safe hands, I swear." The Time Lord twisted his palms to face the startled woman, showing nothing but bare, weaponless skin.

"Says he who just had leftovers hurled at him…" Clara muttered, rolling her eyes, and placed herself between the other two to speak to Lydia, calmly. Hysterics weren't going to get them anywhere. "Like he said, you're safe here. We won't hurt you, we just need your help; don't you remember?"

"I remember a nightmare," Lydia replied, her voice shaky and rough. "And then you abducted me! Take me home, right now! Please!" The angered and scared woman began shouting, only to quieten when Clara had taken hold of the hat stand at the other, more dangerous, end. They struggled for a few moments, toing and froing with some fierce might coming from the women, until the Doctor held onto the middle and raised it as high as he could, leaving the shorter pair slipping from their grip with a defiant huff either side of him.

The Doctor took the hat stand to the door and flung it into space, dusting off his hands as he walked back to the console. "Right, ladies, that's that. Now, your answers." Lydia was sat down upon a chair and the Doctor explained as much as he could from the beginning, all over again. "This is the TARDIS - Time and relative dimension in space. She is my ship and will bring you no harm at all. We're travelers," he said, gesturing to himself and Clara, who was waving her hand slightly to the newcomer, "and we need you to help us figure out a riddle of a problem brought to our attention on Clara's home planet of Earth, a very long time ago."

The young woman sat stunned and still very much shaken. She didn't want to believe the memories she had, wanting them just to be bad dreams, and neither did she know how to respond. "But you look so young," she said, finally.

The Doctor and Clara smiled, awkwardly. _'Okay, she can't remember a thing…'_ the Time Lord thought to himself and caught Clara's satisfied grin from the corner of his eye. _'And you're going to leave it down to me, aren't you?'_

_'Yep,'_ she replied, raising her brows, cheekily. "I'll fetch us some tea," Clara announced, and off she strode through to the kitchen.

* * *

On her way back, she heard Lydia and the Doctor chatting away, and was glad all had relaxed. As she laid the tray of sweet tea and cakes down on the floor, rather like a picnic where the other two were sat cross-legged, she listened to the end of the tale of how he came about his most wonderful accessory - the fez!

"… And then POOF, no more fez," the saddened Time Lord sighed.

Lydia looked sympathetic until she noticed Clara's soft giggles beside them.

"He's got a whole trunkful of them in his wardrobe - trust me, he's over River killing his first," Clara told her.

"You never get over your first love," the Doctor protested, leaning over for a slice of Battenberg cake. "Anyway," he paused to swallow his mouthful, "now you're up to speed on my outfit, what else would you like to know?"

Lydia wiped the crumbs from her blouse as she took a small bite of genoa, and thought over the one thing they'd not mentioned yet. She'd been avoiding it, since she hoped it _had_ been a nightmare while she was out for the count. She swallowed and gulped some of her tea to help the thick substance down. "I really would like to know what's going to happen in the future, what my son will do. That is true, isn't it? Tell me I'm not imagining that conversation we had. I need to have some sort of plan in place, don't I? What schools he should go to, how I should raise him. How do I know it isn't my fault he ends up that way?"

The Doctor and Clara both lowered their cups and saucers, taking a moment to share a thought.

_'I thought you'd have explained that already,'_ Clara chided him.

_'I was getting there!'_

_'You were afraid of her…'_

_'She has just threatened us with the hat stand! I liked that hat stand…'_

"Well?" Lydia interrupted.

"It's nothing you'll do wrong," Clara assured her. She waited for the Doctor to follow with an input, but he didn't, so she continued. "We can't change the future, because we're part of the timeline now, and we know it's a fixed point. We went there, inadvertently, through a time window."

"You mentioned that before, didn't you? But what does it mean?"

"It means danger. Calling it a time window is putting it lightly. This universe will, one day, be linked to a parallel universe, home to Earth, 1989," the Doctor explained, with a level of grief in his voice.

Lydia broke the silence, and chuckled at the ridiculousness. "But that's impossible! Space travelling humans and my baby boy becoming a madman, I can believe, you've shown me the evidence, but parallel worlds from long ago colliding with ours? That's just silly!"

"It's true! Why would we lie about all this?" Clara insisted.

"For a laugh? How should I know?"

"This is no joke, Lydia Wistlowe," the Time Lord said, climbing to his feet. He set coordinates and soon they were in flight.

"Where are we going?" Clara asked, hanging onto the tray at first for steadiness, and giving up to cling to Lydia instead.

"She wants evidence. We're going to show her," the Doctor replied, before the ship ground to a halt. He checked the monitor and smiled a little as he walked over to the doors, opening them wide and holding out an arm. Out walked the women, and Clara's voice sounded irritated in his ears as he stepped out and closed the door behind them.

"You brought us to a chicken shed…" she groaned, dodging a flock of the white, black and brown feathered birds pecking about at their feet. They flapped erratically, skidding into each other across the dirty, dusty ground. "A smelly, rundown chicken shed. Wanna try again, genius?" Clara teased.

The trio covered their noses with their sleeves and managed to find their way through the small, dilapidated enclosure the ship brought them to. A little light shone through the tiny crack in the barn door, and as it was eased open…

"Aha! This is more like it," the Doctor said, raising his arms up, displaying the wonder before them outside the shed. "Ancient Rome!"

"You're having me on," Lydia said, holding a hand to her head in shock. "We really moved through time?"

"Yep!" Clara smiled, tugging Lydia by the elbow, linking her arm through her own.

The Doctor was busying himself already, trying to find clues. Just then, something unfamiliar stepped into the light. A large alien, similar to a Cyclops, although gentle looking, moved between the stalls to the left of the women, and they both gasped.

"Uh… Doctor?" Clara called out, but got no reply. She and Lydia gave the large alien a friendly, nervous smile each, and taking hold of each other's hand, quickly walked to find the Time Lord. Upon finding him rummaging through a crate of some sort, Clara grabbed his arm and yanked him close to tell him, "We're not in ancient Rome."

"Of course we are; look around!" He proudly replied, glancing on the spot at everything in their view, and he pushed the crate to the side to look into another behind it.

Pulling him back again, Clara held him in-front of her by the shoulders to really take in the marketplace they'd come to. "Look again, dear."

There were people, there were stalls, there was a lot of noise… and there were aliens. The trio dodged tall, thin yellow ones with twin limbs, furry in places, scale in others, and flashing six orange eyes set deep into their skulls. They scurried beside the travellers like four-legged spiders. The bulkier, bulldozer kind, with two large black eyes above a long, thin pair of black lips, had thick trunk-like legs, and shook the assortment of objects on each stall they thudded past.

"Okay. Aliens. Aliens in ancient Rome," the Doctor said, utterly confused. "I'm always prepared for a first."

Clara rolled her eyes, turning to face the Time Lord. "This isn't Rome – you've got us lost again."

The Doctor started down a backstreet, littered with broken crates, the odd shattered vase and piles of old newspapers. He called behind him, having found a clue in a newspaper he'd picked up, "Or have I got us right where we need to be?" He pointed upwards out of Clara and Lydia's view when he reached the end of the narrow street. They followed quickly to discover he'd disappeared round the corner.

The women looked at each other as they spun on the spot to find the madman.

"Doctor?" They both called out, and spotted him poking his head out a half-opened doorway to a house right beside them. To get out of the punishing heat beating down on them would be a comfort, and they headed into the shade. Running up a flight of dusty stone stairs just behind the entrance, the pair pushed a creaky wooden door and entered an airy living room.

Inside, the Doctor was sat on the corner of a desk, feet perched on a chair, and his eyes were skimming through a newspaper in his hands. "You were right, Clara," he murmured. "This is definitely not Rome."

Clara met the Doctor at the desk, standing next to him and peered over his arm to take a look at what he was reading. "So where are we?" She folded over the front page to read the headlines and flicked to the relevant page. She pulled it out and started reading aloud, grabbing both traveling companions' attention. "_'Father of two Elridar Lucha (35) and his young son Constalo Lucha (10) have been named the two latest victims in the mysterious disappearances'_…" Clara continued to read as the Doctor set about scanning the home. "… _'Families want answers, asking are they ever to return?'_ Okay. Someone's been here abducting people already – is that the clue?"

Lydia, meanwhile, wandered around the back of the room, determined to be of some use. Pulling open a drawer to a side cabinet, a photo took her by surprise. She gasped out of earshot, gently taking the photo in her hands and held it closer to view, just as the Doctor swung an arm out to snatch it and scan it.

"This is a clue, Clara, yes. And so is this photo…" he said, brows furrowed in concentration.

"What's it a photo of?" Clara pressed.

Lydia looked sorrowful, and she replied. "A young boy… and a young man; I presume…" she began, looking back to the Doctor for an answer, "I presume it's of Elridar and Constalo? This is their home?"

The Doctor took a grave glance to the women, and watched Clara comfort Lydia as she shed a little tear for the missing.

"I'd very much suspect it is," he finally replied. "We have a photo for reference; that's something."

Out he bound from the little sandy-stoned room and made his way down the steps, two at a time. Clara and Lydia followed suit. Clip-clapping heels and slapping plimsolls resounded in the narrow staircase and they flung their wearers into a chase.

"This planet is called Doekex. The year, 3056 – primitive era actually," the Doctor explained as they rushed back to the TARDIS, but as they neared it, some extravagantly dressed men were approaching it too. A wreath of honey-coloured vine and pale pink silk ribbons sat upon their shiny, bald scalps. The Doctor noted the twinkle of a diamond set into the forehead of one man who happened to glance their way as a commotion happened between them. A little boy had sneaked an apple from a stall, and the owner tried to apprehend, to which the well-dressed men tutted at and held the boy still. The Doctor drew in a heavy breath and confidently strode over to intervene.

"I have this all under control, fellas," his deep voice announced, and he took the apple from the young boy who was thrashing his arms and legs about to gain leverage. As soon as the Doctor flashed his psychic paper which stated he was the carer of the boy, the other men let him go, who quickly attempted to scarper, but the Doctor stuck his arm across the boy's chest, lugging him back. His grubby, thin face had streaks of hot tears running down, and the Doctor gave a kind smile, to which the boy repaid.

"Please don't tell the guards – they'll hang my mother for my crimes," the youngster sobbed.

Clara and Lydia watched in silence as this whole event played out, and onlookers soon got back to their buying and selling.

The Doctor thought it over. He knew the boy wouldn't have stolen for no reason, and he looked about Constalo's age… he could come in handy for their investigations. "Don't worry, lad. I'm here to help," the smiling alien said, comfortingly. He looked up to the other men, in particular, the one the boy had stolen from. "Here – four gold coins for this apple for my young friend. Can't say fairer than that!"

The stall holder gasped at such an amount being dropped into his hand, and thanked the Doctor profusely. The well-dressed men turned their noses up at the offer to help the child, and insisted on calling a guard, until the Doctor stopped them.

"I don't think you want to do that," he said, passing the boy over to the women for safety.

"And why not?" asked the obvious leader of the pack, looking the least bit interested in the Doctor's reason, "the urchin and his mother should be punished, as should you. Carer indeed – you shall be hanged!"

"Were you always a goody two-shoes?" The Doctor provoked, walking a ring around the men to try to get to his ship. He glanced at the other men he was with, noticing an uncomfortable shuffle between them, as though they were sheep being rounded by a wolf.

The ring-leader's stance fell. He shifted on his feet, scanning the view to find the boy and two strange-clothed women chuckling at him and his associates. "I am… I am outraged at such an appalling display of mockery. Tell me your name, child," he desperately ordered from the boy.

"Tomas Léva-Dupre" Tomas replied, nervously, despite his giggles.

The Doctor spun to face Tomas. "Dupre?" he asked, somewhat sternly, breaking his concentration from his current job of herding the dandies.

The boy nodded.

The men all muttered between themselves, not understanding this information could be true.

"You're Madam Francine Dupre's son?" The alien added.

"Grandson," a soft, woman's voice chimed in from above.

They all looked up, and out of a window from a neighbouring building, an elderly woman in rags was leaning against the pane. Her greying blonde hair was caught by a breeze and flowed across her wrinkled face. The Doctor smiled up at her, taking an elegant, respectful bow, and the well-dressed gentlemen removed their headwear to greet Madam Francine with honour.

"Clara," the Doctor muttered, urgently. Receiving a look of confusion, he motioned both her and Lydia should curtsey. Watching them do so, along with everyone else in the marketplace who'd noticed her above them, he smiled and nodded, looking back up to Madam Francine. "I do hope none of us disturbed your afternoon."

"Oh no, Doctor," she chuckled. "Would you care for some refreshments?" she offered, and they soon made their way upstairs, with the elegantly dressed men being dismissed by the Doctor's new friend sending them on their way, and the TARDIS was safely ignored once again.

* * *

Inside Madam Francine's home, it almost felt like stepping into a mystical genie's lamp. Rings and jewels clung to the elderly woman's body and clothes, with a sash around her middle featuring beads and small gems. Clara and Lydia entertained themselves, with Francine's permission, trying on earrings and brooches, tying silk bands around their foreheads and wrists to look the part of gypsy queens.

Tomas fetched a jug of fresh water from the stream at the back of their home, and poured out five small drinking bowls of water, before offering them to everyone, just as a calico cat wandered through with its tail erect, and promptly made itself comfortable on the Doctor's lap.

"So, you want to know about the missing. That's why you're here, Doctor, isn't it?" Francine asked, sipping her cool aqua.

"You're the magician, my dear Frankie," the alien suggested with a twinkle in his smile as he twirled his hands, elaborately, in the air. "You tell me."

Francine regarded the affectionate term and chuckled. "Oh, I haven't heard that in so long. Not since Edgar…" she paused at the mention of her late husband's name, and Tomas stepped to his grandmother's side to lay a hand on hers.

Clara and Lydia glanced to each other and back to the others.

"I'm sorry to bring back such memories," the Doctor comforted.

Francine removed a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed her dampening cheeks. "No, no. You're quite alright. Just a sentimental old fool; not quite able to hold the emotions at bay as I used to," she dismissed, stuffing the hankie back into her pocket, and reached over to her left and opened up her desk drawer, bringing out a book. "I've kept a diary of all I knew had gone missing, my son-in-law included…"

Tomas lowered his gaze to the rugged wooden floorboards, remembering his dad's disappearance the month beforehand.

Clara and Lydia's dress-up games had come to an end, and were both now sitting quietly, sipping their water with the others.

"Did you know the Lucha family?" Lydia spoke up, for the first time in a while, and Clara and the Doctor looked pleased of someone asking the obvious question.

"Constalo was my friend," Tomas replied, sadly. "We'd go to school in the day, play sticks in the evening, watch cock fights on a weeks end, and even raced a few digry pigs all on our own!" He finished, proudly. "But he hasn't been seen since last month, same as father."

"That's why we're here, Tomas. We're going to get them home, all of them." Clara smiled. "It's not just people from here that have been taken, it's happening all over the galaxy, all over the universe."

"What kind of magic can do that?" Tomas asked, squinting in confusion.

"Very powerful magic," the Doctor answered, trying to keep the real danger of it all from his young mind.

Lydia felt very small, very hopeless and weak again, and turned her back from the others to hide her pain of knowing what she was carrying was going to hurt this family, and the Lucha family, and so many more. She couldn't hold in the tears and quietly made her way out the house without being noticed.

* * *

Clara found herself surrounded by tall buildings and narrow crevices leading her down some dark and dusty streets as she searched for Lydia upon the Doctor's request, while he made his way back to the TARDIS with Francine's book in hand with names of who and dates of when all had vanished.

She was stopped a couple of times by scantily-dressed women offering her allsorts in the dead of the night. She refused them, continuing her search. And there she saw Lydia being harassed by another in the doorway of a store Clara really didn't fancy going into during the day, let alone at night.

Rushing over, she took Lydia by surprise as she gently clasped her hand and pulled it from the other woman's grasp. "I think you'll find she's spoken for!" Clara said, and hurried Lydia away into the light of the moon. Once a safe distance, she spun round and scowled, though through care, and Lydia understood completely. "What were you thinking going off like that?"

Lydia shook her head of her prominent thoughts of answering that question, and flicked a thumb over her shoulder. "Did you just tell that hooker you're my girlfriend?"

Clara sighed out of annoyance, mostly because she was out of breath from the jogging around the city she'd done, but she soon smiled and the pair burst into laughter. "What are you doing out here? The Doctor's been doing his nut trying to find you this past hour, and Tomas thought he'd upset you by serving bad tasting water… you okay?" Clara led them to a short wall, and they sat down.

"Oh, I've worried you all again. I'm sorry," Lydia sighed, disappointed with her silly decision to wander off. "I needed a moment to myself, I guess. Madam Francine and Tomas were upset of their family member being missing, and I'm standing there knowing why. What was I meant to do?" Tears run down her face, being quickly wiped away with the back of her hand.

With her hands cupping Lydia's, Clara held them close to her chest and promised, "You haven't seen what the Doctor can do. He makes miracles happen. Trust me when I say he's got everything under control." While the woman needed it, Clara hated to lie and give false hope. But she knew that was how the Doctor went through life, and the more she was learning of his ways, the more she could see it was some comfort and it could protect.

* * *

On their way to the ship, they heard a kerfuffle of hooves and yells, and were soon met by the Doctor sprinting in their direction.

"RUN!" He cried, managing to get a grip of both the women as they fled the street, eventually reaching a courtyard. "Up there, up there!" He hurried them towards a tower staircase.

"What did you do this time?!" Clara nagged.

"Nothing! But apparently one of us woke an ancient king and he's on the rampage…" the alien meekly replied.

The argument continued until they found freedom for a second, and ran straight back into danger, being thrown into carriages, and the Doctor was out cold from an arrow shot into his neck. A few minutes later, he murmured and awoke as they neared the Isakmahal prison. With a little regeneration dust drifting from his skin around the area, the Doctor contorted his face from the pain in his neck healing, and then grabbed his sonic, managing to unlock the crate locks, and began to beckon Lydia to jump from the other with them.

Doing as told, she jumped to the soft verge, keeping her tummy protected by falling onto the Doctor slightly. The trio leapt to their feet, which were all in a run as soon as they hit the ground.

Back in the ship, they freshened up, and the Doctor and Clara left Lydia in the safety of the old girl, keeping her entertained in the theatre room, despite her initial resistance, though it was for her own wellbeing since she didn't know how to stay put, much like most of the Doctor's companions, and indeed girlfriend, having now lost Clara in the middle of a large abandoned house on the outskirts of Etdigast. Lydia's time, give or take a few years… the Doctor assumed.

Inside the dark and dusty hallway, the alien and his love flew into each other's arms with a bump against the wall. The Doctor huddled her close. "Clara! Oh, thank goodness you're safe!"

But she had a bone to pick with him, pushing him off her for a second to yell, "How many times have you told me not to wander off?! And then _you_ go and wander off! I feel like I've been running in circles for hours!"

Ignoring the rejection, the Doctor grabbed her and gave her a soft kiss, grovelling at her feet almost. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry - I won't leave you again."

"You better not."

"Heaven knows what's in here," he shuddered as a cobweb tickled his cheek. He held her head to look her in the eye. "Are you okay?" He fussed, straightening her hair around her face.

"I'm fine, but that bloody ship of ours closed the doors on me after I went looking for you in there. Lydia hadn't seen you. Then the TARDIS shoved me out, I fell over, caught myself on a sharp stone…" Clara showed him her hand, and he took it gently to kiss away the pain while she continued to vent her frustration. "Then I felt something rip my skirt as I stood up, but she wouldn't let me back in to change because, have I mentioned? She's a cow. So now she owes me a new skirt," she finished, and twisted her body to reveal a snag in the material hugging her bottom.

That was rather puzzling. After so long being together, he'd have imagined the ship would be used to their relationship by now, but the TARDIS would have to wait for her telling off. Right now, he needed to figure out how to help his angry Clara's dilemma. He pulled the tiny tear up in place, and watched it fall away.

"Hmm…" he murmured. He repeated the action several times until his palm came to rest on the cheek the cloth was supposed to be covering. "There," he said, smugly.

"You can't hold my arse all day, Doctor," she chuckled.

He joined in the giggles. "No, I suppose I can't. Where was the TARDIS when you left her?"

"I think she was outside a child's bedroom, up a couple of flights of stairs and along about a mile of landing," Clara kidded.

The pair headed for that room, just as they could see a new sunrise through the thin netted curtains. Entering, they found it was indeed a child's bedroom; Lydia's child's to be exact. A once fun room of wooden and plastic toys scattered around, a big bed of soft pillows, and colouring book drawings lay across a desk, was now just empty, rundown, and covered in dust and cobwebs. Naked and broken light bulbs hung from the ceiling and wallpaper pealed jagged paths down the walls. Clara and the Doctor saw photos on a sideboard and shelving unit, some that were captured in beautiful wire frames, and those photos were all of a chubby little toddler, with a smiley face and swirl of brown locks askew upon his head.

"Her son," Clara sighed, picking up a frame nearest to her. "He was so sweet."

Just then, a floorboard was heard creaking under the weight of someone stepping across it.

"Hello?" A deep, gruff voice called out, frightened in its urgency, yet confidently continued. "Who's there? Got nothing of value here but a good hiding with my stick if you don't show yourself!" He cried out, stamping his walking stick three times on the floor, attempting to threaten.

They believed the house was empty. The Doctor held Clara's hand and they slowly, carefully walked across the thick carpeting back to the opened bedroom door, to find a shadow of a figure coming towards them. The light of a torch flickered on and skittishly scanned the landing outside, the nerves of the man showing.

"Oh my goodness," the voice spoke again in shock. "Where did this come from?"

_'He's seen the ship,'_ the Doctor said to Clara.

_'Oh, you think?'_ She replied, nudging him with her elbow. _'What do we do now?'_

"Hello? Anyone in here?" The voice asked, and the Doctor could see through the gap between the door and the doorframe, that the gentleman was trying to open to TARDIS door.

He gave Clara's hand a gentle squeeze and tugged her out the room, facing the startled old man, who stumbled back in his brown slippers. He straightened his glasses on his nose and looked hard at the two people in-front of him. He couldn't quite believe his eyes.

"Doctor? Is that really you? And Clara – the lovely Clara!"

"Uh… yes… it's us. I'm sorry, who are you?" A confused Time Lord replied.

"Oh, don't you recognise me?" The gentleman encouraged to jog a memory but nothing was coming back to the pair of them. He wheezed as he chuckled, and coughed heavily into his fist. Regaining his breath, he continued, "I guess I've changed a lot since your last visit, huh? I saw the front door wide open and though I'd check everything was okay up here." Again, he began to cough, and Clara and the Doctor came to his rescue as he leaned back against the wall. The old man was very ill, it seemed. "Oh, don't you fuss over this ol' bag o' bones."

"We don't mind, really," Clara smiled to him as she held his elbow for him to lead on her. "Here to help – but who are you?"

The old man offered a crooked, soft smile in her direction, and placed a thin and wrinkled hand upon her smooth, young skin as he answered her, "I'm Jasper, of course. You remember. Jasper Albertson; Lydia's widower. Been all alone in this house for twenty years now. Not been the same since the war started… but couldn't part with the place. Too many memories. And now with Rupert in jail and the daleks all _'exterminated'_," Jasper impersonated that last word, chuckling to himself, "it's just me. Me and this rattling body of mine."

The travellers had seen and heard many things. Time and space does mess with your brain, but the past and the future were a door away from each other, and any moment now…

"Doctor, you got anymore popcorn? The ship's kitchen isn't-" And Lydia paused, dropping the empty box which once held the exploding, edible treat. She stared at the figure before her. The old man did the same back to her. "Jasper?" She whispered.

"Lydia," Jasper crocked, breathless as he tried to reach a trembling hand to his head, trying to understand what he could see. All he could see was a blurred image of his love looking as beautiful as the day they got back together after learning of how she was pregnant with their baby boy, because his tears soaked his vision. It was too much for the old man, and he sobbed a heartfelt plea to hold her once more.

"Uh, Doctor!" Clara cried as Jasper fell to his knees. She struggled to hold him up from the position on the floor, and the Doctor rolled him onto his back with Clara and Lydia's help.

The old man clutched his chest and throat, unable to catch a breath. Lydia dived to his side in an attempt to be a comfort as he died, and Clara and the Doctor knew to let them have this moment, stepping aside and into the TARDIS. Closing the doors behind them, they held each other close as Clara shed a tear into the Doctor's lapel.

Outside the blue box…

"Please don't die, Jas," Lydia sobbed.

"I'm 103. I've lived long enough, my love," Jasper managed to reply. He kissed her palm and softly whispered, "I held you as you left me on your last breath. Are you an angel?"

Lydia couldn't help but chuckle, and learning she would eventually die in his arms, she was glad to be here as he died in hers. "No, I'm not – I'm just your Lydia."

"Ah, but you were always an angel to me."

* * *

"Now we know how young Rupert Wistlowe ends up being stopped," Clara said, later that day as they returned Lydia to the theatre room with some hot, sweet tea and popcorn. The Doctor and Clara were sat in silence in the console room for a while as the Doctor mulled over in his mind of their next move, and he pricked up his ears to her voice.

"Well, we don't know how, but we know where he'll spend the rest of his days," the Doctor replied. "Right now we need to investigate the city, come on."

Out in the streets, Clara and the Doctor had been searching for hours. Most of the war had ended in this area now with Rupert locked away and people were scarce, but outside the city walls, carnage still reigned because it was dog-eat-dog for all.

Suddenly, a flash of light in the sky caught their attention, and they ran in its direction, following the maker of the light down to the city centre. The Doctor, cautiously, circled the smooth, floating sphere that they discovered. In the gloom of the city's dusk, it shone rather like a bauble on a Christmas tree by a fireside. Warm, deep orange, mirrored the square's reflection and the Doctor's as he walked around it.

"You're a long way from home," he almost asked, but merely stated, as he wrapped his hand around the sonic in his pocket, just in-case it was a trap. "You're an Empire."

"All on its own?" Clara chimed in from across the other side now.

"Its species is called Empire. No-one knows what's inside them, but some assume they're hollow, some say they're piloted by tiny aliens… some believe they're powered by a large pearl, feeding them energy, quite like a clam - an alien clam…" The Doctor continued, and stopped walking right by Clara, who looked up at him as he looked down.

"What do you think is inside?"

"Want to find out?" The Doctor asked, and getting a nervous shrug in reply, whipped out the gadget from his pocket and as soon as it was aimed at the Empire, it dropped to the floor with a heavy clank.

"Have you just killed it?!" Clara gasped, watching the Doctor crouch and pick up the sphere.

"It's perfectly safe," he replied, glancing back and beckoning her over with a flick of his hand. "The sonic only switched it off. Like a giant paperweight now," he huffed, heaving the object to his chest and carried it to the TARDIS.

Back in the ship, he laid the sphere to the nearest chair, and the old girl groaned from the unusual arrival. Quietening her down, the Doctor set to work, dived under the console and dragged a few cables out with him, attaching one or two to the smooth edge of the Empire and skipped up to the monitor to secure another couple of cables to the back of the screen. Sparks suddenly erupted from the disturbance the TARDIS felt on the connection with such a foreign being and first rejected the notion to help, spitting the cables out as though they tasted revolting.

"Now, now; this is no time to be fussy," the Doctor said, plugging them back into the sockets. And the TARDIS behaved, groaning just a moment as she obeyed.

On the screen was a message in a strange text, nothing Clara had seen before, but the Doctor twiddled a dial for an instant translation. "Boarding: 753 passengers - 5 crew members. Departed: 57th Jedof Bor. Destination: Nybair," he began to mumble under his breath. "This is from the future… it hasn't happened yet. So, why has it come here?"

Clara looked at the Doctor for answers but he was setting coordinates. "Where are we going now? And what is that Empire thing really?"

"We're going to the planet Jedof Bor, in the 57th century," he told her. "And the Empires are basically anything you want them to be. Some can become hostile, some can become friends. This one is a messenger."

"Like a space postie?" Clara chuckled.

The Doctor smiled at her. "Quite!" He unplugged the cables, and prodding a button to his right, they were drawn back under the console and hidden away. "Had to be careful though, but putting it to sleep didn't hurt it. It should wake up soon," he assured Clara.

They hung onto the console as it tried to swing them around in flight, and when they landed, the Doctor bounded out the door to a baying audience. Clara swiftly brushed her hair from her face that'd fallen into view, and joined her alien outside, where he was still being greeted with cheers, hugs and the occasional kiss on the cheek by the ladies of this planet. She screwed up her features at witnessing that, but giggled at the Doctor's blushes, trying to calm all around him.

Everyone eventually quietened and settled for the two travelers to pass through and up to a podium in the town's centre, where they were met by an old friend of the Time Lord's. Giving a warm handshake and quick hug, the Doctor introduced Clara to, "Yefus Crink, the stand-in mayor of this bright little town!"

"Stand-in?" Clara queried.

"The good Doctor is the true mayor," Yefus smiled, patting the alien on the back.

"You never told me that," said Clara, hoping for an explanation.

"I don't tell you a lot of things," he brushed off quickly with a smile, and turned to his friends in the square. "Thank you for the warm welcome back. Now, first things first; I bring information about your loved ones," the Doctor spoke through the microphones by his chest, and the gasps filled the air, and one by his ear as he was stopped by Yefus. "You're wondering how I could know such a thing, yes?" He asked his stand-in. Before he got an answer, he continued, "I found an Empire, long ago and far away from here, but it's the same everywhere. People are going missing from time and space."

Yefus looked stunned for a moment with unblinking eyes, but disbelieved the Doctor would be unwise to these matters, and nodded. "Since last winter, families have been left heartbroken by their brothers, aunts and children going missing. No patterns, no notice, just gone. We heard of other planets bereaved by the same occurrence."

"And I know why. Well, I almost know why. This is where we come in." And he tugged Clara over by the elbow, turned to the town again, and with his arm around his love, he announced, "This is Miss Clara Oswald. She and I have been sent a message…" he half-lied, thinking of the sphere in his ship still, "and we have a trace of those who have been taken from you. We will do our very best to find each and every one of them, and bring them home safely."

Within the cheers of relief, there were tears of joy springing from the eyes of spared families who clung to their mourning neighbours and friends to offer support.

The travelers said their goodbyes and flung themselves into the vortex once more.

* * *

**I didn't really know where or how to end this chapter, but it was getting a bit long. I have plenty more written already to carry on with the next chapter very soon where this little plot should be resolved, and then it'll go into something completely different. Please do review, ****favourite**** and follow if you so wish! I do appreciate it all.**


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